#dune 2021 fanfiction

[theoretical-whore]

For Your Pleasure (Piter de Vries x f!OC)

Fandom: Dune 2021 Rating: R (18+ THIS IS SMUT!) Contains: Femdom, bondage, oral sex (female receiving), whipping, butt plugs, cock cages, whipping (male receiving), riding crops, mild bloodplay, cum eating, multiple orgasms, anal sex (male receiving), pegging, humiliation, slapping, blindfolds, talk of consensual sexual violence, dirty talk, the tiniest handjob, use of titles, scratching, female masturbation, squirting, heavy painplay Words: 3k+

A/N: Hooooooly shit guys. This is it. The filthiest thing I’ve ever written. We once again take a look into the relationship of Piter de Vries and my OC Wyen. This is. A lot. Make sure you have your Bibles and I’ll see you all at Sunday Mass because if you’re reading this, you need to go to church as much as I do. This is eight pages of pure, unfiltered sin. Piter might be a bit OOC, but I truly don’t care. Hope you enjoy.

Lord Piter de Vries was a name known in the farthest corners of the universe. Even the citizens of Wyen’s home planet, distant and uninvolved as they were, knew of the Twisted Mentat, the assassin, interrogator, poisoncrafter. The Baron Vladimir Harkonnen’s most trusted advisor. And his reputation always preceded him. Calculating, cruel, and cold, sadistic in the most sickening ways, with a frozen, black heart and no worldly desires other than power and bringing pain and suffering and death.

It was a reputation Lord de Vries was quite proud of. 

But there was a side to the evil man that few people knew of, and perhaps only one person had ever seen. There was a side of him that desired for pain to be inflicted onto his own body, a side that desired to submit and obey, and accept whatever punishment came with his disobedience. He was a sadist, yes, but his sadism also came with masochism. He longed to be hurt, to be used, talked down to, and treated as an inferior, tied up and whipped and beat and cut. He wanted it all. 

And how lucky he was to find a woman he trusted enough to allow these fantasies of his to come to pass. 

Said woman sat in a black velvet armchair, clad in a short, silky nightdress of the purest white, her catlike eyes sharp and her full lips pulled into a smirk. She wore a pair of white heels and held a riding crop in her elegant hands. Her long legs were crossed as she turned the crop over and over in her hands, staring mercilessly at her handsome prey. She reached out a slender hand and hooked her finger, silently asking him to come closer. 

Piter de Vries was stripped completely nude, on his knees on the polished black floor of their shared chambers. A black leather collar sat snug around his neck with a silver chain attached, and the other end of the chain was held tightly in his mistress’s hand. Piter didn’t move when she asked, but not out of a desire to disobey. Simply because he wanted her to pull.

And she did. She gave the chain a sharp yank, and Piter began to crawl to her on his hands and knees. If only those who feared him could see him now, Wyen thought. Nude and crawling across the floor, all to please me. Once he was kneeling at her feet, she leaned down to caress his cheek. “You look so beautiful in submission, darling…” she crooned. “Tell me what you will say if you wish for this all to stop.”

“‘Dune’, mistress.”

“Good boy.” She continued caressing his face until—

SLAP!

She slapped him as hard as she could, relishing in the soft wince that left his lips. “That’s for not coming when your mistress beckoned. Disobey me again and the consequences will become more severe. Am I understood?”

“Yes mistress.”

“Good boy.” She gently caressed his reddening, slapped cheek for a moment longer before sitting back up in her armchair. She ran the end of her riding crop down his cheek and across his jaw. “For what do you exist, darling?”

“I exist only for your pleasure, mistress.”

Wyen smiled and leaned back in the chair, uncrossing her legs and spreading them. She wasn’t wearing any panties. She reached down and ran a finger up her cunt from her hole to her clit. Piter’s mouth began to water. The smell of her arousal was enough to make his head spin and his cock harder than diamonds. But his cock couldn’t harden to its full length, not tonight. His cock and balls were trapped by a silver cage, locked with a key that hung around Wyen’s neck. He winced at the pressure of his cock trying desperately to swell, but being forced back down due to his prison. A silver bar reached across his perineum and connected the cage to an onyx plug nestled firmly in his ass, not quite big enough to rub against his prostate, no matter how hard he tried. 

This was heaven and hell all at once. Exactly how he wanted it. 

Wyen continued to caress his face with her crop and rub her cunt tantalizingly. “Do you wish to pleasure me, darling?” Piter nodded, and she struck his cheek with her crop. He let out a whimper. The pain felt heavenly. “I asked you a question. Do you wish to pleasure me?”

“Y-Yes mistress, I wish to pleasure you.”

“How do you wish to pleasure me?”

“I wish to pleasure you with my mouth, to taste your arousal on my tongue. Please, mistress.”

She pulled her fingers from her cunt and held out her hand to him. Piter knew what to do immediately, sucking her fingers into his mouth and licking them clean, moaning around her hand at her flavor. His favorite drug. 

The cage was becoming so tight, and he loved it. Wyen retracted her hand and inspected it, before spreading her legs wider, propping them up on either arm of the chair and giving his chain another yank. “Come claim your feast, darling.”

“Thank you mistress…!” He lunged forward, attaching his mouth to her pussy in all the ways he knew she liked best. He spread her folds with his fingers and flicked his tongue against her clit, sliding a single digit inside her. 

She hadn’t told him he could use his hands, but she supposed she hadn’t told him he couldn’t.

She sighed contently and settled into the chair, her legs moving to rest her feet on his shoulders. Her lover’s mouth was so talented, silver tongued in more ways than one. He looked so beautiful like this, on his knees worshipping her, body bare save for the cage around his cock, the collar around his neck, the plug in his ass, and the ring on his finger. The one he could never take off, even if he tried. 

Her matching one was nestled on her own finger. 

The symbols of the love they shared. 

He sucked her clit between his lips, running circles over it with the tip of his tongue, causing her to let out a moan. “Mmm just like that, darling…you know what I like. You look so beautiful on your knees for your mistress…”

His cock throbbed again, unable to swell, and he winced at the pressure. It hurt and he loved it. The spice lubricant she had used to insert his plug was starting to seep into his bloodstream and intensify every sensation. She caressed his face and head as he sucked and licked at her cunt, soft moans leaving her lips. “Fuck me with your tongue,” she commanded. He obeyed, dipping his long and talented tongue inside her with a deep moan. She tasted of spice and sin, so delicious and perfect. Oh if he could only survive from eating her cunt and nothing else. If only she could sustain him, he would consume nothing else for the rest of his existence. 

“Make me cum,” she commanded breathlessly. “Make your mistress cum in your mouth and lick your lips clean of my essence.”

Piter did what he was told, sucking ravenously on her clit as he tongue fucked her, eyes rolling back in his head from her taste. He wanted his cock to get hard. But his mistress hadn’t allowed it. Her moans grew louder and louder, interspersed with profanities and occasional shouts of his name, until her long legs began to tremble and he felt her gush onto his face. Fuck, he would’ve cum right then if he only could. 

When her orgasm subsided, she rose to her full height, Piter still on his knees below her. Even with his platforms on, Piter was only barely her height when she was barefoot. Without his platforms and with her in heels, she towered over him. And with him on his knees…She looked to him like a true goddess, giant and regal, with her golden curls and her emerald eyes, with perfect curves and smooth skin. 

His goddess.

She tugged on his chain, silently signaling him to stand. He did so without any hesitation this time. She smiled and caressed his cheek again. “Good boy. Come.”

She led him to a spot in their chambers where chains hung from the ceiling. She took his arms and secured them in the shackles, tightening them so that his arms were straight above his head and he could only barely stay flat footed on the floor. He hung there, bared before his mistress, his goddess, ready and awaiting whatever she had planned next for him. 

She walked around him in a circle, inspecting every inch of his nude, scarred, and hairless body. He felt himself almost tremble under her emerald gaze. She ran her crop down his chest to his caged cock before she disappeared behind him, returning with something in her hands instead of her crop. She pressed her body to his, and kissed him, deep and sloppy, sucking his tongue into her mouth and holding his face. He wanted to melt into her kiss, for her to absorb him into her body so they were one. But all he could do was kiss back as best as he could in his submissive state. 

“Mmm…” she hummed into his mouth, pressing her barely covered breasts to his chest. “Forgive me, darling.”

And then his vision went black. A silk blindfold. But she was so beautiful like this, he wanted to see her. He opened his mouth to protest, but was met with a finger at his lips. “Ah, ah, ah, darling. Remember, for what do you exist?”

“…I exist for your pleasure, mistress.”

A gentle caress of his cheek. “Good boy. Now tell me…how badly do you wish for it to hurt?”

His heart fluttered and he winced again at the pain of the cage restricting his cock’s swelling. “I wish to bleed, to scar…beat me, cut me, please…hurt me to your heart’s content, mistress.”

She ran her long nails down his chest, not quite scratching. “As you wish, darling.” He heard her footsteps walk away, and heard her take off her shoes. He heard rustling (undressing, perhaps?) and heard her rummaging around through their extensive collection of tools and toys. He heard her giggle softly. “Can you smell my arousal, darling?”

She must have undressed, because suddenly her intoxicating scents, both of her body and her cunt, filled his nostrils even stronger. He moaned. “Y-Yes mistress.”

He heard her feet pad back over to him, and felt her gentle hand caress his shoulders, his back, and down to his plugged ass. He felt her spread his ass open. “You look so beautiful like this, darling…such a gorgeous ass…”

Her praise made his skin tingle. 

She stepped back. And then he felt it. 

Pain. Searing, stinging, burning pain across his back. He heard the crack of a whip, and he moaned in both pain and pleasure. How lucky he was, that pain was so pleasurable to both him and her. The sensation and the infliction was like a drug to them both, and he loved it. She whipped him again, and he moaned again. 

Wyen laughed, a sweet melody of a sound. “Do you enjoy being whipped by your mistress, darling?” 

“Y-Yes mistress…!”

Another lash of the whip. “Tell your mistress how much you love the pain.”

“I-I love it, mistress! It hurts so dreadfully, and it makes my cock want to swell…It’s even sweeter since you’re holding the whip, mistress…! It feels so good…!”

Another lash. His back was beginning to bleed with criss crosses from Wyen’s whip, each cut stinging beautifully. “But your cock can’t swell, darling. Beg for it. Beg for your mistress to allow your cock to harden.”

Another lash. He almost wanted to cry from how good it felt. “P-Please, mistress! P-Please, unlock the cage! My cock aches to harden, to swell for you!”

“Do you want to cum, darling? Do you want to cum simply from being whipped?”

“Yes mistress!”

Another lash. Then another. And then they stopped, and he felt her warmth radiate onto his cock. He heard the lock click, and felt the cage fall away and the plug be plucked from his asshole. Almost instantly, his cock hardened to its full length and girth, but he winced at the sudden emptiness he felt inside him. 

And then he was whipped again. Again and again, but no longer on his back. No, her whip cracked against the skin of his now empty ass, leaving more welts and cuts on the plush flesh. 

It hurt so bad and it felt so good.

Piter was practically a mess of moans and groans and whimpers, and then he came with a cry. His hot, spice saturated cum spurted from the tip of his cock in thick ropes, dripping onto the floor. And Wyen didn’t stop whipping his ass, so he didn’t stop cumming. Neither of them stopped until there was a puddle of cum on the floor and Piter almost slipped into unconsciousness. She pulled the blindfold from his eyes. There was his gorgeous Wyen, standing in front of him completely nude. “Look at the mess you made, darling.” She tutted, and pressed on one of the skulls on her engagement ring. The one he had crafted just for her. 

A tiny blade sprung out, and she raked it down his throat. Not enough to cut deeply, not enough to sever his artery, but just close enough that it made him sweat, head spinning from the mere prospect of how easily his seraph could kill him right now. And how easily he would let her do it. It would be an honor to die by her elegant hand. She slashed him again, this time across his cheek, and he let out a strangled moan as the pain surged through his face. He could feel his hot blood dripping down his cheek.

“Good boys don’t make messes, darling. Now clean up after yourself.”

She unlocked his shackles and he collapsed to the floor, staring up at her with his cobalt gaze, staring right between her legs and into her cunt, and he could see it glistening, absolutely dripping. He began to inch up towards her soaked core, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. 

She struck him on his cut cheek with her riding crop, back in her hand instead of the whip. “I said clean up after yourself. Don’t make me punish you, darling.”

He cowered, turning to the puddle of his own seed on the floor. But she hadn’t given him a rag, or anything to clean it with. How did she-

Oh.

Oh.

“On your hands and knees, darling, clean up your mess. Be sure to keep that gorgeous ass in my sight.”

He did as he was told, scrambling to his hands and knees, making sure to stick his rear out just a bit more than he needed to. His asshole was gaping. He could feel it fluttering around nothing. His plug had been so thick. He whimpered as he dipped his head and began to lick up the puddle of his cum. His seed tasted of spice, potent enough to give him a slight high. 

And for the second time that night, Wyen thought if only those who fear him could see him now. On his hands and knees, asshole stretched and loose, licking up his own cum from the floor. She stood, and quickly retrieved something from their stash of toys. She ran her finger between the thick globes of flesh of Piter’s ass, circling her finger around his hole. “You’re such a good boy, darling…cleaning up after yourself like this. Clean it all and I’ll give you a reward.”

Piter began to lick faster, practically polishing the floor with his tongue until every last drop of his cum was gone. Wyen laughed sweetly behind him, fingers still dancing around his hairless asshole. “Good boy, darling…now tell your mistress what you want for your reward.”

“Inside…!” He managed through gritted teeth. His cock was so hard it ached, bobbing as he stayed on his hands and knees. “P-Please, mistress, I need something inside me…!”

That was the answer she was hoping for.

No sooner had his request left his Sappho-stained lips than he felt a sudden intrusion, a sudden penetration, stretching his asshole even further. He cried out in pain and pleasure as his woman’s strap filled his ass. 

“How’s that?” She asked coyly. “Do you want your mistress to fuck your tight ass with her big cock?”

“Y-Yes mistress!”

“Even with the plug in for so long, your ass still is so tight, darling…”

“Please mistress, fuck my ass!” He needed it, more than he needed spice, more than he needed to breathe. He needed her to fuck him. “Fuck my ass as hard as you can, please! I beg of you!”

Piter sounded absolutely desperate, wanton and needy. Gone was the Twisted Mentat assassin, and in his place knelt a subservient, needy whore. 

And so Wyen obliged. 

She held his hips and knelt behind him, fucking into him as he stayed on all fours. Her hips snapped hard against his, and the lewd sound of naked flesh against naked flesh filled their chambers. Piter cried out with every thrust of her hips, each one striking his prostate with perfect force. 

“What are you?” She said between pants as she fucked him. 

Piter’s face turned red. “I-I…” 

“Say it or I’ll pull out and you won’t get to cum, darling.”

Piter’s cheeks burned in humiliation, and it only made his cock harder. “I-I’m a whore, mistress!”

“Whose whore?“ She sped up, pounding his prostate harder and faster. 

Piter nearly screamed from how good it felt. “I’m your whore, mistress! Your useless, cock-hungry whore!”

She reached around and gripped his cock, stroking it in perfect time with her assault on his prostate. “Cum for your mistress, darling.”

And he did.

His vision went white, his whole body shaking, and a strangled scream leaving his lips as he came hard, harder than he thought he’d ever came before. More cum spurted out of his cock and onto the floor, dripping into another puddle as she mercilessly pounded him through his orgasm. It took every last ounce of his strength to stay on his hands and knees. 

Wyen tutted behind him, reaching up to rake her nails down his chest. “Oh darling, you’ve made another mess. I believe you know what you have to do.”

Piter loved her, more than he’d ever loved anything or anyone. More than pain, death, spice, even power. Between any of those things and her, he would always choose her. His black heart swelled with love for this woman, as dangerous and deadly as he was. He loved her.

And he was in for a very long night.

#Piter de Vries #dune 2021 #Dune 2021 fanfiction #Piter de Vries x oc #piter de vries x reader #david dastmalchian

[melodygatesauthor]

The Only One

Dark - Duke Leto Atreides X f!Reader

Not Beta Read

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

The duke needs an heir, or Caladan will fall under the rule of his enemies. There's one woman is capable of saving the planet...she's the only one.

Tags/Warnings

Disclaimers: This fic does not comply with canon, throw everything you thought you knew about the Dune lore out the window. The duke is (in my opinion) in character for this situation, despite the obsessive tendencies. There is heavy non-con in this fic, it's not for everyone. If you're sensitive to that sort of thing in fanfiction, please keep on scrolling thanks. NSFW, non-con, rape, kidnapping, sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, praise kink, lactation kink, pregnancy, blood kink, cockwarming, forced pregnancy, non-consensual bondage, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, body worship, pregnant sex, oral sex (f receiving), Dark fic, Dark Duke Leto Atreides. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 6k

Prelude

After many years of trying for an heir, Duke Leto has begun to give up hope. Without an heir, the emperor threatens to give away his birthright, strip him of his title, and hand Caladan to his enemies. He has been given only one final year to produce a son who will carry on his family name. While searching for someone who could give him what he needs, he happens upon a mysterious woman. The strange woman tells of a prophecy, one that Leto takes very seriously, because he has no other choice. "In a village, not far from here, my lord, there's a girl. She is not of noble birth, but I have seen her future, and she will give you many sons." Duke Leto, a kind and gentle man, would never hurt someone so innocent on purpose, but when faced with the choice of taking you, or losing Caladan to those who meant to oppress it, he must set aside his morality for the greater good...

The duke entered his chambers where you were suspended from the lofty ceiling, as he’d requested his men to do once they found you. A warm smile spread across his face at the sight of you, so beautiful, so scared. Leto stepped forward, nearly jumping when your head shot up and your tear-stained eyes locked on with his. He held one hand behind his back in a regal manner, holding the other out to touch your cheek as he closed in on you slowly.

“W-wh…” you cleared your throat, “where…”

“Shh,” he whispered softly, brushing his thumb over the soft skin of your beautiful face, “you’re safe now. There’s no need to panic.”

Despite his words, it was clear you were terrified, struggling to breath in a normal, even heave. No matter the fear you displayed in your eyes, the duke’s expression remained calm, and filled with adoration.

“I know you’re frightened. It is…expected,” he said softly, standing up straight and casually walking to his wardrobe. “Would you care for some wine perhaps? Or I can call for the doctor, he could provide you with a mild sedative?”

He turned to look at you, your head was hung downward once again, naked body trembling and rattling the chains that held you in place. He wasn’t a cruel man, though he suspected you thought he was. He’d never done something like this before, sending his guards out to retrieve a young woman to keep in his chambers indefinitely. A nearly inaudible sob escaped your lips.

“No need to cry my dear, you’re not in any danger,” he said, beginning to unbuckle his belt, the sound of the metal piercing through the room. “In fact, you’re going to be very well taken care of here. Do you have any idea just how lucky you are?”

You cried harder, sobs becoming even louder as you looked up at him again. He removed his shirt, revealing his warm, sunkissed skin. It was hard to tell, but he appeared handsome through the blur of your tears. You dropped your head again, your neck aching from the position you were in. Your arms were pinned behind your back, body bent forward at the hips, leaving your rear exposed and open. Your thighs ached, legs spread wide, forced open by a metal pole secured between your knees. The ache in your chest from your labored breathing was horrid enough, only made worse by the chains wrapped around you, keeping your torso held upward and parallel to the stone floor.

“You don’t even realize that you are the most important piece to maintaining our way of life of Caladan,” he continued, removing his pants completely and letting them fall to the ground. “I have been unable to find anyone compatible. Perhaps it’s that my genetics are too much for the average woman to carry to term.” He stepped closer to you, cock bobbing heavily with every stride. “But you’re not average, are you my dear?”

“P-please,” you croaked, “I…I…”

“No no, not another word. You’re frightened now, yes, but you’ll soon realize the important work that you were made for,” he walked past you, running his hand along your arm and to your hip as he did. “The important job you’ll be doing for me…”

You whimpered, struggling slightly against your restraints but to no avail. The duke used to pride himself on being an honorable man, and even in this morally reprehensible moment, he felt justified in his actions. He didn’t always like what his duty called him to do, but knowing it was for the greater good, he would do almost anything.

“You see my dear,” he cooed, “you were found for me, a beautiful, fertile woman who is prophesied to give me many children…” he leaned into your ear, “many.” His tone turned to a low rumble. “So even though this may seem sudden, you will realize with time that you’re fulfilling your purpose…your destiny.”

His right palm splayed over the globe of your cheek, moving toward where your body was spread in two. He didn’t like hearing you cry, but he knew it was inevitable. No normal girl would consent to being abducted and restrained in a man’s bedroom, not even the duke’s bedroom. He saw your puckered hole, and he pressed his index finger to it gently, inciting a gasp from you, followed by the rattling of the chains. You cried out, begging him to release you, but your wails fell on deaf ears.

“I know you care about Caladan, our people. I know you care about the Atreides legacy, and you know…” he spit between your crack, letting his warm saliva trickle from your rim down between your folds, “you know I need a strong, healthy heir.”

Leto positioned himself behind you, using his hand to fist the fat tip of his cock at your glistening entrance. The metal pole keeping your legs spread for him creaked with tension as you struggled to close your thighs, a pointless endeavor. He sighed heavily, gliding his head between each crevice of your pretty little cunt, making himself slick with your arousal.

“You must think me to be a cruel man, but you’re mistaken darling. I don’t want to hurt you, and if you’ll relax this will be much less painful for you.” His breath was ragged with an almost animalistic desire. “You must understand, however, that I care far too much about the future of my people not to provide them with an Atreides heir.”

No matter how hard you tried to escape the flesh splitting thrust of his wide girth, your attempts were futile. A pained scream echoed off the walls of his chambers, followed shortly by the warmth of your blood against his thighs as he slapped them against yours loudly. He wasn’t trying to hurt you, but he wanted to get your first time over with, and not drag it out any longer than necessary. He slowed down after a moment, once your screaming turned to soft whimpers.

“You’re doing so well…” he huffed through his nostrils harshly “…I know this isn’t easy for you,” Leto leaned forward, grabbing one of your hanging breasts in his large hand, pinching the nipple gently, “b-but your body was built for this…it was built for me…”

“No, n-no…” you trailed off, feeling your head fall back down, neck aching still from the strain. A small moan left your lips, despite your attempts to keep it in.

“O-oh sweetheart is…is it starting to feel good?” The roll of his hips remained at a steady pace. “That’s wonderful, it will help with the pain, and your time will be more enjoyable for you if you can gain some pleasure from this as well, I don’t want you to feel misery if I can help it.”

“S-stop, please, my lord…”

“Shh,” he whispered softly, continuing to palm at your breast.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips against the soft skin of your spine. He could feel your tied-back hands fidgeting against his ribcage. His free hand moved to your left hip, holding it tightly to angle himself deeper.

“I’m going to fill you with every bit of me , every-single-drop,” he punctuated each word with a harder thrust. “I need to make sure you get it all, need to make sure it takes…mmph!”

Surely your noisy whimpers could be heard in the halls, yet no one came to help you. They all knew what was happening in there. You were to be the mother of the next Atreides heir. You would be made to bear child after child for the legacy obsessed duke. A breeding vessel for a desperate nobleman, torn between his kind nature and his need for the security and wellbeing of his people.

“The emperor will take everything I have if I can't secure my bloodline. He’ll give it t-to the…” he whimpered and gulped deeply, “Harkonnens, and I can’t let that happen to my people.”

You could hear nothing over your whimpers save for the wet slapping of his skin against yours as his pace quickened. You didn’t know what he was going on about - destiny, legacy, an Atreides heir? - He snapped forward again, a gravelly rumble falling from his chest. He moved to an upright position, letting your breast hang loosely once more. You wailed loudly, the feeling of his thick fingers leaving their impressions in the flesh of your hip.

“M-my lord, my lord…it hurts so…s-so-much-s-sir!”

“I know, but you’re taking me so well anyway aren’t you?” He looked down where your puffy little hole swallowed his crimson painted cock. “Look at that.”

His index finger touched where you were stretched around him, that little bit of skin that held onto his cock like it never meant to let go. You whimpered, chains rattling around you as your body involuntarily moved, only serving to sink you down further on his length once more. He could hear you hyperventilating, a panic-stricken whine punching out of your chest that he felt a tad guilty for inciting.

Until he remembered what your purpose was…the reason he’d had you brought to his castle in the first place.

He reached an arm around your leg, sinking the pad of his finger into the wet, bloody mess between the slippery lips of your cunt. In the sea of your arousal, he found the swollen bud that made your walls flutter around him. You gasped, and seemingly on their own, his hips slid forward, chasing that delicious feeling of your body finally accepting him, pulling him deeper inside.

“You like that don’t you?” He bit his lip, a breathy chuckle escaping through his teeth with the knowledge that he’d found a way to settle your terror, if only for a moment. “I promise, no matter how terrible this may be, that I won’t allow you to stay like this…and-s-suffer-oh-my…”

He felt your body squeezing tighter, walls contracting around his cock. He thrust forward again, shuddering at the way you were taking him, pulling him deeper, like your body was begging for his cum, like you needed him to feed your hole until you were stuffed and overflowing.

“Mmm-m-my-lord…p-please–”

Your tone was different now, more sultry and full of desire. It was good to hear you like that, moaning instead of crying, grunting with pleasure instead of pain. This would be so much better for you once you gave in, he knew that much. He could give you everything: make your body shake with orgasm after orgasm, clothes made from the finest silks, and comforts that were reserved for only the lords and ladies of Caladan.

“Your pleas don’t go unnoticed sweetheart, don’t think me cruel, I wouldn’t do this if the circumstances were different,” he huffed, breathing becoming more ragged with every glide of his hips. “I need you…Caladan needs you–needs-you-full-ah!”

The smooth roll of his hips slowed as his seed spilled into you. You felt it, warm and slick as it coated your insides white. You felt a sensation you’d never felt, rolling over your entire body and pooling in your core, causing your legs to shake and your mind to go blank. It was euphoric; a reprieve from the pain you’d endured for what felt like hours, but couldn’t have been more than several minutes.

Leto felt your pussy walls squeezing, crushing down over his girth in waves while you moaned. What a sweet sound, one that made him feel mental relief that he’d given you something in return for your suffering. His finger slowed around your hardened clit, letting you come down slowly from your high.

As your pleasured whines subsided, you thought he would remove himself from you, letting your hole relax after such an ordeal, but he didn’t. The duke stayed there, hips pressed flush against your rear, making no motion to release you from his hold. You moved slightly, but he gripped tightly on your hips, keeping you firmly in place.

“No, no darling, no.” His voice was calm but raspy, still settling after his climax. “I’m going to stay like this for a moment longer, just to make sure it takes. We wouldn’t want to waste it.”

He looked down, seeing the way your body had bled on his, coating his pubic hair in a deep red shade. He felt for you, truly he did, but once you realized what an honor it was to be in your position, he knew you’d find it was worth the sacrifice. Your breathing was slowing, going back to normal, and after several moments he pulled back, letting his limp cock fall from where it had torn you open. 

You groaned, feeling yourself become empty all at once. Your head hung down, neck finally too tired to hold it up any longer. You heard the duke tsk behind you, his palms pressing against your cheeks and spreading them further. The sound of dripping cum on the floor echoed through the room.

“Let’s keep it all inside, sweet one, I need you to give me a son,” he pushed his spend back inside you with his finger, what little was still there and had not fallen to the floor.

You winced and hissed, the metal holding you in place rattling once more. His thick middle-finger slid in deep, Leto shuddered as your hole clenched in response. He could hear you crying, a soft, defeated sound he wished one day would stop. But he couldn’t expect that from you, not now as he broke you in for the first time. He expected you would be like this for a while until you were used to him, used to his size, used to the way he kept you as full as possible, as often as possible.

“Your body handled me very, very well darling,” he said, idly fingering you as he spoke, continuing to push his spend back inside you. “Looks like I’ve made quite the mess of you, but don’t worry, I’ll have you cleaned up in a moment.”

He kept true to his word, once he was thoroughly satisied he’d kept his cum in you long enough, the duke turned onto his back, positioned himself between your thighs, and propped himself up on his elbows so his lips could reach your cunt with ease. A gasp shot from your lungs, the feeling of his warm mouth enveloping your sore folds bringing comfort to the ache. You moaned, a sound that represented more than just sexual pleasure, but a sound that told him you were at least accepting your fate…for the moment.

He was right, there was no more fighting, and it was clear your words weren’t going to change his goal oriented mind. His desire to have an heir was stronger than his desire to act honorably. His tongue went flat, you felt it soothing the tear of your hymen, then dragging upward and flicking once it reached the peak of your folds. You exhaled a sigh, cunt throbbing in response to the way he lapped at you masterfully.

“You know not many,” he kissed your pussy lips, “can say,” another peck, “they’ve been lucky enough to carry such an important role for Caladan. Even I’m not as important as you are right now.”

His hand reached up and pressed against your stomach while his mouth continued to melt into your cunt, soothing you even more as he cleaned you. He never felt such pride as he did in that moment, knowing that this was a good effort, even if it didn’t take. The sheer amount that he ate from you, in combination with his already discarded seed on the floor underneath him, gave the duke a sense of relief to know that he was producing sufficiently on his end. It wouldn’t take long for you to give him a healthy child, if you were indeed the girl the old woman had told him about.

You whimpered still when his tongue would touch your wound, though it was always followed with the relief of him dragging it over your clit. He slurped quietly as he continued, not making an indication that he would be stopping any time soon, despite the likelihood of you being clean already. The hand on your stomach moved, reaching up and cupping your breast, holding it and squeezing softly.

“Oh, my lord, y-yes…”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t deny the heat pooling at the base of your abdomen once again. Was it even worth trying to deny the way it felt? He was the Duke of Caladan after all. If he wanted a hundred concubines tied up to his ceiling he could take them, and no one would stop him. You should be grateful it was he who took you, and not someone who might’ve been much more cruel in their claiming of your body.

He hummed into your folds, breathing heavily through his nose as he did. His hand slid over to your waist, gripping around you and holding tight. The vibration from his moans, and the brush of his peppery beard against your thighs was causing your body to near release once more. That would only be the second time in your life that you’d felt it, and you wanted it more than you could bear.

“Mm, let yourself go my dear, I only want you to feel good from now on, now that I broke you in a little.”

His mouth never left your cunt as he spoke, his words only serving to draw your next climax from your body faster. You felt it fall over you, warm and heavy, making your body melt once more, going limp save for the involuntary crashing of your walls around the emptiness the duke had left behind. He didn’t stop until he was sure you were fully satisfied, head hanging down again and breathing returned to normal. 

With a grunt he rose from beneath you. You heard him padding on his bare feet to the wardrobe on the far side of the room. If you turned your head just a little you could see him, much clearer now than before. He looked at you as he put a loose cotton shirt over his shoulders, then leaning down to pull his trousers over his legs.

“You’re simply the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said in a gentle baritone, moving back to kneel in front of you. “I do not kneel for many, but I’ll kneel for the mother of my children.”

You strained your neck to look at him once again. He cupped your cheeks to help you, seeing your struggle and feeling sorry for the part he played in your suffering. He kissed your forehead, feeling the salt from your sweaty brow upon his lips.

“I’ll return every day, at least until I’m sure you’re pregnant,” his lips curled into a compassionate smirk, “then I’ll let you rest while your belly grows.”

He stood, striding to the washroom and leaving you hanging there, like a prized animal on display. Before long, the same men who’d captured you returned, undoing most of your bonds, save for the ones holding your hands behind your back. They weren’t rough, just like before when they’d abducted you. You felt your entire body sigh, your bones and muscles feeling relieved to fall back into place. 

You weren’t sure when exactly you’d conceived. It must’ve happened at some point between that first time when he tore you apart, and the following month when your period didn’t arrive when it should’ve. By then you’d become, not unlike, a piece of furniture in Duke Leto’s chambers, restraints much less restrictive and painful than your first meeting. Only a week after he’d broken you, you’d become more willing for him, crying less when he came to take you. 

“I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner here, despite your situation, and since you’ve become so compliant, I think I can afford to make you more comfortable,” he’d explained.

And so he had you moved to the bed. Though you weren’t completely free. That was a risk the duke could not afford. So he had metal cuffs around your wrists, and chains that connected them to the stone wall behind the bed. You could move easier, but you could never leave.

When another week went by, two weeks after your torment began, he was swelling with pride, seeing you spreading your legs upon his entry into his chambers without prompt. You said you appreciated the silken evening dress he’d had the servants craft for you, the one that fell open on either side of your hips when you presented your cunt to him. He wasn’t supposed to love you - it wasn’t necessary for him to love you - but he felt himself overwhelmed with feelings he couldn’t contain every time he saw you.

Three weeks after that first meeting, you kissed him. It was clear he’d been holding back, allowing you to maintain some level of autonomy, despite having taken your body for himself so many times. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, force you to be intimate with him if that wasn’t what you wished.

So it was a shock when he was several moments into fucking you, cock sliding wetly along your walls in a desperation to fill you with him again, and you grabbed his face on either side. His hooded eyes shot up, meeting with yours but then quickly flicking down to see your precious lips closing in. You closed your eyes, and so did he, and everything seemed to slow down for a moment, including the pace that he thrust into you.

The slow roll of his hips was heavenly, and was soon accompanied by the feeling of his hand on the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss, gliding his tongue inside your mouth so he could taste you. The duke filled you faster than ever that night, being so engulfed in the moment that he couldn’t hold on any longer.

And now, it was just over a month beyond your arrival to Castle Caladan, you were sitting with the physician while he examined you, confirming that yours and the duke’s efforts had been fruitful.

The way Leto looked at you in that moment, was a look you’d never seen before. His dark brows turned up and stitched together, soft lips parted just before a smirk curled over them. He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, the glossy sheen of tears apparent in his eyes.

“After years of trying to produce an heir, I finally found a perfect vessel, such a precious thing,” he cooed, touching your stomach before leaning in and finding your lips with his own. “My most wonderful treasure.”

Leto heard nothing else as the doctor murmured about you, voice seeming background to where his focus lied. Part of him was still shocked that the old woman was right. She told him in his search of her prophecy that you, a normal village girl, would produce many sons for him, and she was right. 

That night, the duke did everything he could for you. His kisses were softer, less desperate and more deliberate. His hands didn’t grab your flesh as a means to hold you, but rather to feel you. And when he sunk his cock into you, he did so in a way that emphasized your pleasure over his own, angling for those spots that made your body quiver.

You may not have been of noble birth, but to the duke, that night you were his empress. There wasn’t an inch of your skin that hadn’t been brushed by the coarse hair of his bearded chin. He worshiped you, giving you an evening dedicated to only your satisfaction.

For many weeks he would come into his chambers and ramble on about how proud he was, and how well you were doing. He would whisper the most depraved, while beautiful, things in your ear about how the people of Caladan owed you their lives, and how he couldn’t wait until it was time to breed you all over again. All of that praise was nothing though, not compared to the way he looked at you after coming back from his trip to Arrakis.

When he walked into his chambers, and you were there on his bed, only a couple short months away from birth, he stopped dead in his tracks. He felt like the words were trapped in his throat, and his feet were stuck to the floor. All he could do was stare, and take in the beauty before him. You were simply radiant, pregnant belly full with his son, his heir; swelling breasts nearly spilling out of your dress.

Once he found the ability to move again he slowly walked over to you, taking off his coat as he sat beside you.

“Look at you…” his voice trailed off.

“Hello my lord,” you greeted softly.

His hand reached for yours, and he was quickly reminded that you’d been a captive there, metal cuffs still wrapped around your wrists, rattling as he held you. He felt a pang in his chest, wanting desperately to release you. Every time the thought crossed his mind though, he worried you would run. You didn’t seem like you would try to leave, having become much more docile since your arrival months ago. There was also the glaring fact that you were pregnant, and it wouldn’t be easy for you to get away even if you managed to pass every one of the guards who might see you before reaching the doors of Leto’s home.

There was always that small chance though, no matter how slim, that you would leave. It was a risk he couldn’t afford to take.

He looked back at your body, eyes wide and trained on your stomach. The duke leaned in, kissing just above your navel, a satisfied hum escaping his lungs as he did. It was hard not to like him, and that was what you hated about him the most. The man was dedicated to his people, to his title, and his legacy more than anything. The longer you were around him, and the more time you’d spent under his care, the more you’d begun to understand your purpose within his walls.

The idea of the Harkonnens, or any other house for that matter, claiming the right to Caladan, should House Atreides produce no heir, was a frightful one. He broke you from your thoughts, eyes trailing up your chest and to your eyes. Your breath caught in your throat, he looked so handsome, lips slightly parted with a few stray hairs falling into his dark eyes. Despite holding you captive for the sole purpose of breeding an heir from you, you’d begun to fall for Leto Atreides, against all odds.

“My sweet girl, my darling, you’re doing so well, growing my child in your womb. I couldn’t have asked for a better woman to give me a son, to give House Atreides its heir,” he whispered, cupping your cheek, bringing his forehead to yours. “I’ve been disappointed so many times.”

“Thank you my lo-”

“No sweetheart, no, shh…” he pressed a finger to your lips gently before replacing it with a tender kiss, “you should be worshiped by Caladan, it's people…I want to worship you.”

His hand grabbed at your waist, pulling you against him into a deeper kiss. You felt his growing arousal against your thigh, followed by an involuntary rut of his hips. You whined, trying not to be bothered by the incessant ache in your chest, your engorged tits becoming too heavy and painful to bear. It was hard to focus on the duke’s soothing touch when you felt such discomfort.

He stopped kissing you, looking at you with concern, “are you alright sweet one?” His eyes trailed to your tits, “are they sore? Oh you poor thing.”

You nodded and whimpered, wincing as he pulled one of your straps down and pulled a heavy breast from its confines. Your puffy nipple had a bead of white sitting on it, threatening to trickle down the mound. His pink tongue darted out, lapping up the milk that nearly fell from your breast, and humming in approval of its taste.

“Let me help you my dear,” he said softly, leaning in and latching his mouth over your chest.

You gasped at first, the coarse brush of his beard stinging against the sensitive skin, but it very quickly gave way to a much better, more soothing sensation. You sighed in relief, feeling him suckling at your flesh, drawing out the milk that had been causing your breasts to swell beyond belief. He moaned against your skin, rolling his hips idly as he did. This was very unusual for him, to be so needy and desperate for you, clinging onto your body the way he was.

In the past, Leto would’ve just taken you if he wanted to, but with your body so soft and full with his child, he would resist. Of course he knew you could take it, you weren’t made of glass, but he wanted to give you nothing but comfort, emptying you instead of filling you with more than he already had in the past. He felt your hand reach up and grab the back of his head, delicate fingers massaging between his peppery locks.

“Mm, my darling, so sweet,” he muttered against your tit, a little milk dribbling down his lips.

You felt his hips moving more, now more deliberate before, as though he were accepting of his primal urges to find release, rather than suppress it, but still unwilling to ask you for help.

“It’s alright my lord, you haven’t…mmph…you haven’t been satisfied in some time. Do what you must.”

Even though he was trying to remain stoic and refined, your permission was all he needed to throw all that aside. With his free hand he tugged at his belt, keeping his lips pursed around your nipple as he did. You heard the unmistakable clanking and rattling metal as he found success, pulling the leather from the loops and tossing it to the ground. His dexterous fingers then made quick work of his pants, pulling them to his thighs.

Leto Atreides was a nobleman, not one to give in to such animalistic delights so easily, but something about drinking from your chest, and how perfect you were serving him and his house with your pregnancy made him feral for you. His hands were shaking as he tried to bring his cock to your hole. He’d done it so many times before, why was he struggling now?

“Sir…” you pushed him off your breast, biting your lip at the sight of him as he looked up at you.

His eyes were hooded, milk-drunk and heavy. The lips that had been suckling for a while were now pink, puffy, and covered in a white, glossy sheen. You lifted your leg, sliding yourself into a position that you were both parallel to one another. You wrapped your leg around his hip, angling his fat tip to your slippery entrance.

“You’re too precious, too g-good…oh…” His hips stuttered forward, opening you wide around his cock once again.

You hadn’t been with him in so long, your body had nearly forgotten how to take him. You winced, needing to readjust once again, but he was patient, holding himself flush against your hips while your walls moved aside for his girth. He let out, what sounded like, a low growl as he mouthed at your neglected tit. His hips remained in place, making no attempt to retreat, nor to glide in further. His cock rested there contentedly, throbbing every now and then.

He gulped, humming into your breast as he drank more, the ache in your chest slowly subsiding with every moment that passed. Eventually he moved his hips lazily, pulling back after a time before rolling back forward.

What the duke was feeling with you in that moment was more than a simple sex act. What he felt now was comfort, his cock buried in your soaking, slippery heat, and his lips pursed around your nipple. Leto swirled his tongue in a slow roll over your peaked mound, taking a moment to inhale several shaky breaths before going in for more.

The way he drew more and more milk out of you was causing your body to relax further, your walls becoming more open to his slow movements and deep strokes. A low moan escaped you, forcing his eyes to shoot up, still so dark in their feral hunger. You tugged his hair, forcing him to pull off your breast with a loud pop. Without hesitation, you kissed him, filling your mouth with a combination of your sweet fluids and the duke’s own signature taste 

“You’re like no other. Not a day goes by that I don’t want to hold you close sweetheart…”

He brushed his nose against yours, eyes moving slowly from your lips, to your eyes, and back again. A swell of emotion poured through him, his desires going beyond just wanting to give you his seed, but it was something more. Your last name…it was wrong. He never wanted to take a wife, in fact, he’d vowed never to do such a thing, but you’d changed the very fiber of his being from the moment he’d found you.

“After my son is born, I’ll give you the best gift I can, the only gift I can give a woman of such importance…oh my…g…”

The duke lost himself, holding you tightly against him, though careful not to squeeze against your stomach too harshly. His choked moans vibrated against your chest while he filled you, pumping your body with his cum once again. You felt your own climax wash over your body, inspired by his own, drawing everything it could from him as it did, both of you a trembling, moaning mess.

He sighed with contentment after his mind cleared. He looked at you once more. 

“I’m going to keep you,” he kissed your lips breathlessly, “I’m going to keep you here with me. I’m going to give you my name, and until the day I die you’ll be mine, my precious thing.” He pecked you again, and then pressed his lips to your stomach.

“I can’t wait to have your name, sir, and to be able to walk around the castle freely,” you said softly.

Leto’s blood ran cold. 

Walk around freely…

Perhaps you’d misunderstood him, in fact, he was certain of it. He could see how his words may have been misconstrued. Evidently he would need to be more clear with you. The duke’s gaze darkened when he looked back into your eyes.

“My sweet girl.” He cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead. “Until the day you are barren, I cannot risk any harm to you, nor your body.” His words were chilling, but his gaze was warm. 

“You’ll never leave this room, so long as I can help it.”

Duke Leto Atreides Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[emsvertigo]

Be My Angel ⋆·˚ ༘ *

"holding on to you, holding on to me, holding on tight 'till my love is crossed."

summary & genre — fluff. a slow morning wake up with paul, perhaps it'll bring confessions of love.

warnings — mentions of pregnancy, sexual references, brief descriptions of death & injury, me being in love with paul

character & pairings — paul atreides x fem!reader

word count — 2.4k

a/n — this is a bit of a shorter fic than the others I'm planning as i'm trying to get back into the swing of writing after so long! i couldn't resist writing this about paul as i have fallen back in love with one of my favourite characters. i hope you all enjoy! <3

find my masterlist here!

˚ · • . ° .

You awoke to his fingertips drifting their way across your frame, peppering the freckles and moles on your skin with smooth motions. His calloused fingers were careful not to apply heavy pressure, ghosting along your body, in fear of disturbing your slumber, something he had subconsciously accomplished.

The sunlight was trickling through the sheer curtains, material floating in the warm breeze that the Arrakis air had blessed you with. Shimmers of gold danced their way into the cascade of blankets that shrouded the two intertwined bodies in a covering of comfort. The tangled mess of limbs beneath the protective silk sheets radiated warmth, something that was in plentiful supply in the desert world. The bustle of groups in the courtyard below the haven where you rested began to rise in volume as your ears adapted to the surroundings.

You moaned sincerely, exhaling for as long as your lungs would psychically allow without a cough erupting from your throat. Your eyes slowly open in a drunkenly sleepy state, the sunlight from outside temporarily overwhelming your perception of the world for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut while your body lets out a whine of a yawn. You stirred, flushing your hips and rear against the build behind you, Paul breathed deeply in response sending tingles up your neck and into your thoughts.

His warm hands continued their travels around your body, wrapping their way around your shoulders to hold you close. You found your lips turning in a delirious smile, as you imagined the drowsy figure of devotion behind you, nestled against your warmth and the pillows behind him. Your back pressed into his chest as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, a careful whisper falling from his lips; “I did not mean to wake you.”

He tenderly planted a kiss against the skin that lay there, softly rubbing his cheek against the blemishes decorated along your skin, soaking in your very human spirit. You feel the curve of his jaw drift along your nape as his gentle, slow, kisses make their way along your neck, breathing in every inch of your scent he could take. You moaned in response, opening your eyes totally this time, your body used to the sudden shock of being alive.

“I’m glad you did.” You responded, your voice still groggy, clinging to the last linger of your immobile delicate state. You lay, basking in the calmness that enveloped your being, gently sneaking one of your hands along the front of your nightgown, careful not to disturb Paul’s peaceful position, as you brought a finger up to itch at your eye. His warm breath hummed into your neck in response, your heartbeat aching for him once more. A breath fell from your lips as he held you tightly, taking in the moment as he merged your bodies together into one tenderness engulfed by his power and strength. You savoured the moment like a sip of sweet wine after a hectic meeting, swirling the droplets of love like rivers of drink.

The room around you bathed in your tranquillity. You found your legs moving with your newfound sense of cognition, intertwined in your lover’s frame. The pools of light from the arched windows gushed down the side of the windowsill, soaking the bed and the corner of the room in a stunning haze of molten gold, almost blurry from the waves of blistering heat. The light reflected beautifully off the bed frame, dripping down the carved animal shapes etched within the golden slab, blinding your gaze as your eyelids fluttered. You breathed in, a wave of zesty air running through your nostrils, cleansing the inner workings of your mind with the very soul of the planet.

As you took your sudden breath, you felt Paul's hold shift beneath you under the weight of your slight movement. You seized the moment, taking advantage of his sudden loose grip, adjusting your position and surrendering the window for a better more perfect view. Paul followed your movements as if you were conjoined in thought, his strong arms instinctively enveloping your back, holding you close against his chest in a protective embrace, even though there were no instantaneous threats nearby. You felt his heartbeat slow against your chest, steady and reassuring, his bare skin shining in the light.

As you now faced him, you couldn't help the smile that thrived on your lips, taking in the sight of your betrothed so close. The boy you once knew had transformed into a man before your eyes, a thought which made your heart ache in the face of growing up, leaving adolescence behind. His jawline was more defined, leaving pudgyness behind him, cheekbones higher and his features so handsome and distinguished. A real Duke's son. You felt a sudden rush of rich emotion as your hand traced its fingertips along the side of his jaw, marvelling at how he had grown and changed. His eyes quivered with the sudden light pressure of your skin against his bones.

“Hello.” You beamed softly, his features soaked in the glitter of gold, sparkling along his face and drooping down his perfect nose. The side of his lips began to upturn with a small smile, a flash of his crooked teeth blessing your vision for the smallest second before they were covered by his beautifully pink lips. His eyebrows furrowed as he gazed your way, eyelids almost fighting to stay open, threatening to close because of your close proximity. His hair, messier than usual, fell in delicate strands around his face, framing the perfect bone structure laying there, his cheeks hugging the curls close to his flushed skin.

“Hi.” He breathed, the air fanning across your face as he left a short kiss on your nose, lingering for a moment longer than needed before retreating back to face you. Your heart fluttered, still slightly dozy, but ever so alert for your man. Your special, special, man.

The relationship between you two hadn't sprung up overnight, it had been a cocktail of emotions dancing in the embers of a powerful childhood friendship. However, every subject, noble, royal, or warrior thought the former, that your relationship had been a strategised plan by two houses in desperate need of strength. The concerns of your emotions had been thrown in a heap in favour of their taled hearsay, sheltering your true desires for one other behind a mask of misleading plot and scheme.

From the moment you had first met Paul, soft cheeks that burned deep crimson, green eyes that shone like emeralds in inquiring and thoughtful gaze, baby fat still hanging from his frame, you had known he would be yours. You had taken his hand, being the older of the duo, and whisked him through the castle grounds in which your residence was kept. You documented how he had blushed when your finger outlined his hand when trying to imitate your mother's palm reading practices, thinking it hilarious when he had goggled at you in disbelief when you had told him his death was nigh, throwing your head back, laughing at your own foolishness. You didn't know it then, too sheltered by the shadows of youth and innocence to understand the burning ache that overpowered your every meeting with the delicate boy.

Although caught in the memory, you pondered how these feelings had never been addressed between the two of you. Only acted upon in burning frenzies, unmarried and improper. The naked warmth laying beside you, arms holding you close, was a byproduct of one of these moments. Parents and advisers oblivious to the intense lust you two harboured for one other.

“Did you sleep well?” He pondered, retreating to face you, his eyes darting from eye to eye unable to focus on one, desperate to take in all your features at once. The shimmering green of his eyes almost opaque in the light, shining a shade of hazel into the retinas.

“I did.” You smiled, recollecting the dream that flooded your mind when nestled in between the pillows and Paul’s figure. How real it had felt, “I dreamt of you.”

He hummed in response, as your hands continued their journey along his beautiful jaw, the stubble of manhood ghosting over your fingers as a reminder of his age. The dream had been simple, a premonition, a glimpse into the future of you and your sweet boy.

The sand beneath your feet had glimmered, Spice dancing over the sunburnt dune in which you had been perched. Paul looked different, older, wiser, almost an image of his father, standing proud and bold against the Arrakis rays. His frame was larger as if he had started taking his role as sole heir to his house's name seriously, the unquestionable probability that his father may not be alive forever finally sinking into his mind. He wore a Fremen stillsuit, fitting him like a glove and hugging his newfound larger muscles in a promiscuous yet savage way. Your hands had interlocked as you looked out into the vast desert, your body also adorning a suit of a similar nature, modified presumably by Paul to fit your frame and protect your body's water, storing it for later consumption. A small tent village was buried in the sandy dip below you both, lights and laughter emulating in the dying sun.

When your fingers had interlocked Paul turned to face you, the difference in his features striking you. His hair was longer, as though it hadn't been cut for a few months. The curls still framed his face, which was now older and worn, blemishes patterning the skin from work in the daylight, the planet consuming his once delicate and prince-like qualities. Small wrinkles lined his face, and his mouth turned up in a small treasuring gin, the corners of his eyes creasing in a look of eternal gratitude. But his eyes.

Oh, his eyes. Plunged into the deepest pool of oceanic blue, the colour reaching all across the sclera of his optics, swimming in his iris like a monumental wave on Caladan. A trademark of the Fremen, indigenous people of Arrakis, a sign that he, even you both, had been in their company for a period. He had drawn you in for a kiss, closing his eyes and pressing your lips together softly. One of his hands had gradually reached down the front of your suit, landing carefully on your stomach as if you may break of fragility.

"How is she?" He had whispered, the tube in his nose directing filtered air into his lungs, a massive smile now plastered across his face. You looked down to the small bump in your suit, peaking out in a reminder that you were his forever, and your family was about to start growing.

At this sentence you had awoken, your precious lover’s hands roaming around your arms and as you faced him now, you allowed yourself to smile, a wide preposterous smile.

"Why are you grinning?" He pondered, his hands rubbing along your back. "Was the dream that good, perhaps a premonition?"

A sudden urge ravaged through your body at the sight of him, the gentle sound of his voice. Perhaps the dream had made you hormonal, the thought of pregnancy clouding your judgement in a flash of beautiful white light. Your heart soured, the beating now frantic in your ears, tiredness dripping from your brain as it filtered its way out of your consciousness. For the first time in what felt like years, you were thinking clearly. The flash of the tomorrow, speeding through time at a pace unimaginable to those lacking your incredible power, the Bene Gesserit bloodline rushing through your veins, a path which you could have easily chosen, but instead preferred your heart. The adoration you harboured for this young man, his hair messy, was enough to make your sanity blank.

"I love you." The confession dripped from your lips, carrying the weight of an over decade-long friendship shattering with it. Most would ponder, question, how the friendship was not ruined when Paul first carried you to his room, your arms wrapped around his neck as you planted small drunk kisses against his sweaty skin. The breathless gasps and tender touches could not be shared between friends, mere friends did not know what it felt like to bed each other, bound eternally by an action you frantically clasped when you were mere late teenagers. How, when he came of age, you found yourself laying in these very sheets, starkly bare before his lean figure.

The words hung in the air the two of you shared, your heart beating tighter and quicker than it ever had before, thumping in the back of your mind as you impatiently awaited his reaction. Yet, Paul did not flinch, did not squirm when the three words left your breath in a tiny whisper, barely audible. His eyes maintained their movements between your two visions, still unable and frustrated that he could not drink your very body immediately, he believed it would be more deadly than the Water of Life, it would destroy his very being from the inside out with the amount of admiration he felt within his gut.

He brought his figure forward, interlocking his lips with yours, needy for your taste against his tongue. Your hands scratched down the side of his cheeks, trying your hardest to pull, engulf, him in your worship. You were suddenly reminded of your premonition, the blink into the future, his lips feeling the same as they would then. The thing that would return the man with you now to you at any moment, his love returned you to your shared youth, his palm against your hand as you read his future. But now you saw it, you saw it oh so clearly, and his mortal peril was your last concern when you had him so vulnerable, only yours until the stars exploded into supernova and the planet's moons crashed into the sands.

When he pulled away, his hands retracted from your back to cup your cheeks, running his thumb along the underside of your eye, removing a piece of sleep under his tender grasp. As your proximity caused your breaths to mingle, he answered your statement, the words dripping like saccharine from his tongue. Your sweet boy.

"I love you."

˚ · • . ° .

#emsvertigo fanfictions #paul atreides #paul atreides fanfic #paul atreides x reader #dune #dune 2021 #dune 2024 #dune frank herbert #fanfiction #fanfic #dune fanfiction #dune fanfic #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet fanfic #timothée chalamet x reader

[eyelessfaces]

about time we found each other again.

leto atreides x reader

summary: even years after your wedding got called off, leto is not sure he truly really got over you.

warnings: implied cheating (I am so sorry lady jessica I love you), death of a parent, angst, probably inaccurate dune lore stuff my most sincere apologies I did my best

tags: f!reader, arranged marriage, first love, love confessions, estrangement, time jump where the second part takes place a few years before the first movie (this doesn't matter at all tbh)

word count: 2.1k

this is my first time writing for leto so I hope he's alright lol<3

When you came to meet Leto Atreides for the first time, it was instantaneous; maybe you couldn't rightfully affirm it with conviction yet, but some deep part of you immediately knew that you desired him to be the one by your side for the rest of time. 

He had been the only other person around your age when you and your family attended a special meeting on Caladan, and you could very well feel your heart beat faster and your cheeks burn hot at each of his furtive glance thrown your way and each slight smirk over either of your faces when your gaze met his. 

Maybe leaving your home land and being sent to eventually move to Caladan wouldn’t be as bad as you had thought, after all.

And it wasn't. You quickly, borderline scarily quickly fell in love with Leto, you were sure of it by now. His manners were those of a man of respect, and he was kind and compassionate, he didn’t have the over excessive pride you would expect from a destined duke.

And ultimately, you grew to also be almost pretty sure that he felt the same way towards you, from the way he listened to you with no feigned interest whenever you shared stories with him, from the way his warm brown eyes so gently looked over at you, from the way he always made sure you were treated right.

You remembered it to be a warm evening when he officially confessed his love to you. 

You had been walking mindlessly through seemingly never ending fields, talking about anything and everything for what felt like a lifetime, eventually stopping to lay down and watch the sun set. 

Leto had settled on gently putting flowers in your hair while you told him about your childhood on your home land, smiling radiantly as he admired you lovingly, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand before he leaned in to kiss you. 

Your own hand was quick to find his dark curls neatly slicked back as he hovered over you, the tip of his fingers delicately tracing your face and neck before he pulled away from your lips when it became absolutely necessary. 

From there, the sunset and everything else became insignificant, everything could be crumbling around you and you wouldn’t pay it any mind; nothing mattered, not when Leto promised to love you until his very last breath here in the middle of nowhere. 

So when you eventually had your parents visit you on Caladan and announce to you that you had been sent there for them to agree with the Atreides upon arranging a marriage with Leto, you couldn’t be happier and it couldn’t be more convenient; you would have chosen him anyway, if given the choice.

Leto had the competence of making everything seem so easy, and he turned out to be quick to ease your worries about your upcoming future as a duchess.

Even under the looming political pressure of your marriage, this wedding meant a starting point for the rest of your life, a part you could not wait to share with him, even if it meant a lot of responsibilities and changes.

Then so suddenly, all at once, it all fell apart, everything. 

It was late in the night when you and Leto were laughing and dancing, rehearsing for the forthcoming wedding. Servants had knocked onto your shared room door, and Leto’s hand left your waist as he scurried away to answer the door, opening and making way for them to enter the room. 

They came in with a polite nod, one of them unrolling a parchment letter, reading out loud to the both of you.

The letter was from your father, announcing the news that your mother had died while on a mission, resulting in the need of your presence at your home land to take over her legacy and responsibilities for a while.

You didn’t understand what it involved right away, maybe from the shock of the sudden, dreadful news, the loss of your mother too hard to swallow.

You didn’t understand that it meant that you and Leto were bound to be no more, that either of you were now assigned to different fates and responsibilities, that the marriage was therefore called off for the moment being.

And you quite certainly didn't realize that the night you spent tossing and turning around your shared bed with eyes wide open until the sunrise was the last night by his side, that the morning you left was the last time you would see him.

Until years later, what felt like a lifetime.

When you came back to Caladan for political and business reasons, it was only because of the absolute necessity of your presence, otherwise you wouldn't have shown up.

Finding him again after so long drowned you right back again in the same hollow feeling you endured the moment you were drawn apart years ago, and while you mirrored his polite nod and smirk, you couldn't help but still feel the pain of being estranged so brutally, of seeing him again after so many years.

He was wearing the slowly appearing gray streaks of hair beautifully, and the beard suited him like he was made for it; it made his handsome face look a bit more harsh and severe, but he was a duke now, after all.

You lightly cleared your throat as you made your way to leave the meeting once it was over, troubled as you could feel the weight of his gaze burning holes through you all along. You could feel your heart pound through your ribcage the exact same way it used to when he held you when you were younger, and you ultimately came to the rotten conclusion that your stay here in his presence would be a tough, challenging time for you, and that dwelling on the past had been a bad idea, exactly like you had anticipated it to be. 

—

It was wonderful out there, just like you had remembered it to be. The view from the balcony offered you an endless panorama over Caladan and its lush lands, and while you loved your home land with your whole being, you couldn’t deny missing living on Caladan.

The fresh breeze of the night was nothing but pleasant, and even though you were slowly starting to feel goosebump growing over your skin, you figured the view of the sun starting to set was more important.

“I thought I could stay focused while in your presence.” you recognize his voice all too well, and you wonder if the shiver running down your spine is caused by his sudden apparition or the wind hitting you. “I was deeply wrong”

“Leto,” you chuckle sheepishly, blushing as you turn around and face him.

A bittersweet smile has quirked upon his face, and he steps further and approaches you. The years have been unkind to him, lines of wisdom and experience growing upon his face transforming him into a man hardened by duty. Yet, beneath the rough facade, you can still see the eyes and soul of the man you once knew and loved.

“Why only now?” he asks, a certain helplessness painted across his face.

“What?”

He sighs as he looks away, licks his lips as he walks besides you and grips the barrier of the balcony with both hands. You only hear the wind as you watch and wait for him to do, to say something.

“This should have been yours. All of this” he mutters, gaze fixed on the sight before him. The clouds look like cotton ripped apart and spread through the wide sky, and the sun setting over Caladan turns them into an abnormal color, one you wouldn't even be able to define. “I waited for you.” Leto declares, head turning to look back at you like he is trying to figure out how you feel or waiting for you to say something.

Your eyes close as a small exhale leaves your mouth. “Why should it matter now, Leto” you scoff, turning away to try to escape his gaze, heavier than you remember.

“It has always mattered” he declares, following your steps as you try to inch away from him. He calls your name in a weak plea, his hand coming to rest over your arm. “Look at me. Please”

You do. You turn back to him, and he looks at you like you will be slipping away from him any moment now, like you're just a ghost, like you're water in his bare hands. “Tell me you did not think of me all those years and I'll leave you alone.” he whispers feebly, face close to yours as he still holds onto your arm, and you can feel your breaths mingling from how close he is to you.

His unwavering gaze is locked on yours, desperately waiting for you to say something. Eventually, your lack of response speaks for itself, and he nods slightly. “That's what I thought.”

“Leto.”

His hands come to cup your face, holding it steady as with a sigh, his forehead rests against yours. Your eyelids fall shut under the weight of it all and you exhale softly, your hand wrapping around his wrist, stroking along his forearm.

“I have loved you since I met you. I should have found you and married you regardless.” he mutters, barely louder than a whisper. His declaration makes something flutter deep in your core, and you grimace like his words feel sour to hear. You should have done it differently, should have come back to Caladan after everything went back to normal after your mother's death.

“And your wife?” you rhetorically ask, with a dubious scoff.

“She's not– we never married.” he shakes his head, pulling away from your forehead to look back at you, your hand falling to your side again when you let go of his arm. His gaze and the way his eyebrows are angled weakly are conveying everything you need to know, confirming every conclusion you made. 

Your lips part slightly, some part of you refusing to believe in what he's indirectly telling you, refusing to believe that he gave up on some part of his life waiting for you.

“We were promised a marriage together, a life together” he continues, taking hold of your hand, fingers lacing with yours tentatively. “I always hoped you would come back and we would resume our life together where it stopped.”

“Now still?” you weakly ask, equally pained and somehow flattered that he never really got over you.

Again, the lack of answer and his previous actions prove the point, and you hold his hand tighter when you swallow with difficulty. Your other hand slightly trembles when you reach to touch his face, settling to rest at his bearded cheek, and you smile weakly as you trace the lines that you never got to witness appear. 

“We were so young” you smile, drawing one out of him. The corners of his lips turn upwards as his hand covers your own over his face, pulling it to bring it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles softly, the feeling of his warm breath over your skin taking you years back.

“Don't go back.” he begs against your hand, his voice wavering a little. There’s a glint in his eyes as his gaze darts up at you that makes it impossible for you to consider refusing and giving up on him again. “You belong here.”

Your eyebrows knit in uncertainty as you tear your gaze away from him, looking at the endless view again. You can't help but overthink every consequence coming back to Caladan is going to involve, for you as much as for Leto, and especially for his own concubine that is at this point already long forgotten by him.

This is unfair, but some part of you acknowledges your younger selves feelings and remembers how devastated you were to leave him; leaving again while knowing that he still cares after so many years and regrets not marrying you may hurt even more.

“This will make people talk, Leto.” you wince, looking back at him.

He shakes his head carefreely. “Let them.” he affirms with a dismissive scoff as his hands settle over your hips. You grin softly as he pulls you closer, and a soft exhale leaves your mouth when your arms wrap around his neck.

He takes a while to admire your face, how it has changed despite still remaining the one of the woman he fell in love with long ago.

When he kisses you, it is the exact same way he used to when you were young.

—

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people who wanted to be tagged<3: @beezusvreeland @steven-grants-world @hammerhead96 @ominoose @clemdango04 @campingwiththecharmings @unear7hly

#leto atreides x reader #duke leto x reader #duke leto atreides x reader #leto atreides #duke leto atreides #leto atreides x you #dune #dune part one #dune part 1 #oscar isaac #duke leto #duke leto x you #duke leto atreides x you #leto atreides fanfiction #duke leto atreides fanfiction #dune 2021 #dune fanfiction #duke leto fan fiction #duke leto fan fic #duke leto atreides fan fiction #leto atreides fan fiction #leto atreides x female reader #duke leto atredies x reader #duke leto atreides x female reader #fanfiction #fan fiction #dune part two

[meltedheartz]

thinking about how weird yandere!paul atreides would be ..

he's such a freak. an absolute weirdo around you, all lingering eyes and adoring smiles flashed your way.

paul knows you think he's a little off. a little too touchy with you, following you around like a lost puppy... you don't get it. he doesn't think you would, but he also doesn't quite care.

it's in the way he stares at you, albeit from a distance. the way he smiles. how he speaks to you. how he acts. all of it is a little unsettling, in plenty of ways.

after all, you're a boy... in the eyes of other people of course.

in your defense, you never bothered to reveal you aren't biologically a guy. no one asked! no one cared! no one thought about it! you passed so naturally, it was better to just blend.

you're rugged in all sorts of ways.

when you were nothing but a child, you'd climb atop of things you shouldn't have, you'd fight the other boys with fists and teeth, not hesitating to wield a sword or gun and join battle.

certainly, your parents fully believed you were the outcast of the family. the black sheep, the freak, the one they'd stash under the stairs to hide you from the world.

it got real bad when you cut your hair and would wrap fabric around your chest just to make sure you looked more masculine in the eyes of many. surely, you were crazy? you had to have been. going out in public like that — when you're supposed to be their precious daughter, their darling baby they'd dress in ribbons and bows, all sorts of jewelry.

you weren't really interested in those things... you like fighting. you like who you are. it's so much more comfortable, you feel so much safer.

until paul atreides comes around.

when you two first met, it was cordial. he kept a distance, despite being stony faced, he'd smiled at you and offered his name, asking for yours.

the two of you shake hands, professional and solely there for business. until you're sent to arrakis, and, well, it goes sideways.

he starts following you like a stray on the street... so eager to be near you, to feel the warmth of your scarred, rough hands; to stare at you and admire all the gashes and beatings you've received from your battles.

and it's just.. ugh. you hate it. you feel like you're being stalked everywhere you go, asking him dumb questions like, "shouldn't you be with chani??" "you don't have anything to be tending too, at the moment...?" "ah, are you sure you want to watch me spar and train? surely you have elsewhere to be." it irks him, just a little bit. ever since paul had locked eyes with you, his visions changed.

would he ever say what he saw? mm, maybe not. wouldn't want to scare you off!

but until he does make those visions a reality, he'll watch you from a distance. evaluate just why he sees children that look like the perfect mix of you and himself, why he sees so many different variations of wedding rings, why he sees you sleeping beside him in bed as he dreams.

just... until then. paul swears he'll make it a reality.

#heartz.png #heartz.png files #haha!!! you thought i'd make a female reader? #WRONG. #i'd rather burn there's enough of those. #paul atreides is a FREAK #he wants to eat you out and have a bigbig family with you!!!! #dune #dune move #dune part two #dune 2021 #dune 2024 #dune fanfiction #dune smut #paul atredies x reader #paul atreides x you #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x male reader #male reader #ftm reader #trans male reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you

[the-oscar-isaac-collective]

Contributor Applications ARE OPEN!

IT'S FINALLY TIME EVERYONE!

Artist Application

Writer Application

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!!PLEASE READ THE INFO BELOW BEFORE APPLYING!!

Information

General OI Collective Rules apply across the board for all of our events and projects!

This is a free, digital fanzine. In the future we may take financial contributions for charity or artist profit but for now it's a passion project among dedicated fans.

If you have limitations or want to participate but aren't sure about your ability to commit to what we've outlined in the application, please reach out to us, we don't bite and are happy to answer any/all questions you may have.

YOU CAN APPLY TO DO BOTH ARTIST AND WRITING CONTRIBUTIONS. We encourage it if you want to do it!

SFW:

You'll be assigned the characters you will work on after the applications have been concluded. WE DON'T SUGGEST STARTING TO WORK ON ANYTHING UNTIL THEN.

Must have something to do with coffee/tea but doesn't have to be exclusively coffee shop au. For instance, if you wrote about Poe and wanted it to take place in the Star Wars universe, it doesn't necessarily have to be at a coffee shop, but should at least involve coffee in some way shape or form.

Must be blank to lovers (enemies, friends, exes, e.t.c.)

Fics will be kept between 1.5k min - 3k max word count.

SFW does NOT have to mean fluff, you can have angst, action, drama, e.t.c.

No works may contain anything sexually suggestive, though light flirting or domestic fluff like kissing is allowed. Just nothing too heavy.

All pieces are x reader/x y/n. The gender of the blank reader/ y/n is at the sole discretion of the creator.

There is no skill or experience requirement to participate. EVERYONE WILL BE ACCEPTED!

NSFW:

Must have something to do with creampies.

This is NOT a dark fanzine, therefore non-con, extreme dubious consent, and other dark themes are strictly prohibited. We may do a darkzine in the future but this ain't it.

Fics will be kept between 1.5k min - 3k max word count.

The work MUST contain sexual content, and a creampie of course <3

All pieces are x reader/ x y/n. The gender of the blank reader/ y/n is at the sole discretion of the creator.

No threesomes. I know I'm sorry, we're not against them, but in order to keep this zine organized the way we have it planned it just won't work out with more than one person.

No skill or experience requirement to participate. EVERYONE WILL BE ACCEPTED!

Excited to see who joins!!! Thank you all for your support!

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[spasmsofthought]

revelation (paul x chani)

Short and (not) sweet. Let me know what you think! xo

Also on Ao3 here

+++

Chani has always known, she thinks. 

Arrakis is so beautiful when the sun is low, with the spices rolling over the sand and just barely glimmering in the fading light. But now, looking over the dunes that have always been her home, she can't see the beauty. She sees how her land has been ravaged. She sees that her home will never be hers. She sees the pain of all the people who will have died for nothing. 

All of her life she has been fighting. All of it has been in vain. 

Her heart is both burning and frozen.

From one oppressor to another, one Great House to the next. It will never end, she thinks, and her people will not see the freedom that was supposed to be theirs.

Looking back, she starts to pinpoint why there was always dread when she woke him from a dream. Why the inevitability of things started to become greater than the possibility of them.

He gave himself to her, and she realizes it wasn't enough. It won't ever be enough. Things will never be the way they are supposed to be -- full and deep and equal -- when he cannot return to her what she offered to him from the start. Nothing about Chani has changed, but Paul will never again be who he was, if he ever was that person at all.

Chani loves her people. She would give her life for them. Paul would rather lead her people than die for them.

The signs were always there, she thinks, which makes her choice to love him in the middle of all this even more ironic. 

Deep down, long ago, she knew.

She should have known sooner.

#dune part 2 #dune 2 #dune movie #dune part two #dune spoilers #paul atreides #paul x chani #chani kynes #chan imagines #paul atredies #dune (2021) #dune fic rec #dune fic #dune fanfiction

[theoretical-whore]

Private Eden (Piter de Vries x f!OC)

Fandom: Dune 2021 Rating: R (18+ THIS IS SMUT!) Contains: Mentions of hard sex (bruising, biting, marking), mentions of torture, mentions of using torture devices for pleasure, flowery dirty talk, fingering, slight temperature play, clothed sex, outdoor sex, unprotected sex, PIV, consensual groping (male receiving), mentions of gore, mentions of drug use, creampie, mentions of blood, disturbing rings (think Megan Fox’s engagement ring) Words: 3k+

A/N: Hey gang, been a while. I’d like to formally introduce by beloved Dune OC, Wyen. If you’ve read the Easing the Tension trilogy, you may recognize her. That reader insert became her. So please enjoy this snippet of their relationship.

Wyen noticed Piter to be in an exceptionally good mood from the moment they woke. Both of their pale bodies were littered in cuts and marks and bruises from their hours of lovemaking the night before, and Piter took extra care to tenderly kiss the bruises shaped like his fingers and soothe her with lovely words. 

Wyen rolled onto her back and let him kiss her wrist as she ran her fingers down his cheek. “You aren’t often this tender in the mornings, my love,” she said. It was true. Piter de Vries was often the type to proposition another round of lovemaking before they started their day, regardless of how long or hard they had gone the night before. And Wyen didn’t mind this one bit. But there were times, now and then, when instead of lust, he would display how much he truly loved her. And even though Wyen never once questioned his love, knowing that he showed his love in other ways, those moments were always a delightful treat. 

This was another of those moments, yet Piter seemed even more entranced by his lover than usual, far more tender and gentle. 

“Am I not permitted to worship my lover?” He asked. “To ensure she feels my love in every pore of her beautiful body?” He pressed a sweet kiss to the top of her hand. 

She giggled and rolled on top of him. “Rest assured, my beloved. She feels your love in every fiber of her very soul.”

His blue within blue eyes shined as he gazed up at her, long fingers reaching to tangle in her golden curls as he pulled her into a kiss. His cold tongue was never a stranger to her welcoming mouth, the faint cinnamon taste of spice lingering on his breath and making her head spin. Naked skin rubbed against naked skin as he held her and kissed her deeply, passionately.

“As much as I hate to cut this short…” he murmured against her lips. “I have a very specific agenda in mind for us today, my darling.” A coy smile played along his lips. What did he have planned? “Get dressed, my love. I have somewhere I’d like to show you.”

And so Wyen reluctantly pulled away from her lover and rolled out of the comfortable bed they shared, preparing herself for the day her lover claimed to have planned. Her pure white gowns and dresses were a stark contrast to the dark palette of their shared chambers, but Wyen simply couldn’t wear black. Wrapped in the finest white silks, she sat at her vanity and fluffed up her golden curls, waiting patiently for her lover to be ready. 

And ready he was, wrapped in fine black leather. The darkness of his attire next to the brightness of hers always made them an interesting pair to look at. His short stature boosted by heavy platforms, pin straight posture, and smooth head contrasted sharply to her tall and willowy body, graced with beautiful curves and golden curls tumbling down her back. Opposites, perhaps, but they somehow fit together like perfect matching puzzle pieces. 

And no one dared to question their love. Not the servants, nor the nobles, nor the Baron himself. Even he knew that separating his advisor from his woman would end in disaster. 

Wyen took her lover’s arm and let him lead her from their chambers and begin heading in a specific direction. 

She giggled sweetly. “Where are you taking me, my love? You’ve shown me every inch of this desolate planet. What more is there to show me?”

He tutted. “It would ruin the surprise, my darling. Come now, do you not believe that new things can be built on this planet? Perhaps something new has sprung up where there was nothing before.”

Something new where there was nothing before? Now Wyen’s interest was piqued. She wondered what her beloved had done, what beautiful new torture chamber he had built? Perhaps if she was lucky, he would test whatever devices he held in there on her. 

But as they walked through the stronghold and out into the planet proper, a smell began to prick at Wyen’s nose. Something she hadn’t smelled since her arrival on Geidi Prime. Something sweet, gentle and fragrant. It smelled almost like…

There was a large hedge where there hadn’t been one before, with a single white door in the middle of it. Piter smiled at her. “Come.” He produced a key from within his robes and unlocked the door, leading her inside. She sucked in a gasp, covering her mouth with her hand. 

“Piter…”

The large hedge acted as four walls, containing a garden. It wasn’t large, but it was beautiful. Bloomed white roses grew in every inch of the garden on bushes and hedges, the clear source of the fragrance Wyen had caught. Near the back, underneath a white weeping cherry tree and surrounded by rose bushes and a single fruit shrub, was an intricate marble gazebo. 

Tears stung in Wyen’s eyes. She hadn’t seen beauty like this since she left Tolvara. She looked to Piter, who was smiling gently. “Do you like it?” He asked softly. She nodded. “Then it’s yours.”

“You have such sadness in your eyes whenever you describe your home planet, my love. When you describe the trees and the meadows and the flowers. I can see how much it pains you, how much you miss it. The atmosphere of Geidi Prime isn’t right to support greenery such as this, but I was able to have a dome installed that mimicked an atmosphere suitable for flora.” He pointed up, and Wyen could see the faint shimmer of some sort of force field. 

“I wanted you to have your own personal Eden, a paradise just for us, full of the flowers you love so dearly. I’m afraid it’s not very big, but I had it grown for you over the past few months. And everything you see in here is real. No synthetics, only flourishing life.”

Piter could barely finish his sentence before her lips were on his, hands on the back of his head to keep him close. His hands settled on her waist as he kissed her, loving and sweet. 

“Thank you…” she whispered. 

“Think of it as a gift. To…commemorate.”

She titled her head to the side. “Commemorate what?”

He led her to the gazebo, that same smile on his face. “To commemorate our love, my dear. And to commemorate…this.”

He knelt to one knee in front of her, taking both her hands in his. Another gasp left Wyen’s lips. “My darling Wyen…my seraph, my angel, my sanity. My love and my lust. I ask you humbly, not as Lord de Vries the Twisted Mentat, but instead as Piter, simply a man and your devoted lover…” He produced a ring from within his robes. 

“I ask you humbly to become one with me, in law and name. To have me as I am and allow me the privilege of having you the same way. When we met, you told me that you had no surname, and so I offer you mine. I ask you…to become my wife.”

Wyen sank to her knees alongside him, hands coming up to hold his face. Tears flowed freely from her emerald eyes now, and a gentle smile graced her lovely face. “Yes, Piter. My answer is yes, a thousand times yes.”

She kissed him then, kissed him like she had never kissed him before. He slipped the ring onto her left ring finger they kissed, on their knees in the gazebo of their own private paradise. One hand went to her curls, threading his fingers through the flaxen strands, and the other settled on her waist again, giving her curves the gentlest of squeezes. 

“I love you…” she whispered between kisses. 

“And I you.” 

Their kiss grew heavier and deeper, until Wyen began to melt into his embrace. He wrapped his arm fully around her waist and dipped her, moving to lay her carefully on her back on the marble floor of the gazebo. “Do you wish for me to take you?” He whispered. “Do you wish for me to take you here, in our sanctuary?”

“Yes,” she hissed, her body already heating up under his spice-stained gaze. All it took was a simple look, a few simple words in that deceptively soft voice of his to make her start leaking. And she knew that it only took a sound from her lips and a few gentle touches to have his cock stirring in his trousers. 

She could already feel his growing hardness pressing against her lower belly as he hovered over her. 

“Do you wish for your betrothed’s cock, my darling?” 

“Yes,” she hissed again. “Take me, my love. Seal our betrothal.”

He slid one hand under her dress and up her thigh, up to her soaked and heated cunt. “So wet, my darling…from only a few simple kisses and pretty words? How lewd…”

“How am I to not soak, my dear, when my betrothed’s very voice sends my head spinning and my heart pounding? How am I to not soak when you touch me as sweetly as this?”

He tutted. “Such a naughty girl…” But there was no malice in his words, only playfulness that matched the twinkle in his eye. He slipped his hand into her panties and ran his metal adorned fingers between her folds. She gasped sharply at the cold metal of his rings against her burning cunt, the temperature making the sensations all that much stronger. “That’s it, my dear…take my fingers before you take my cock.” He circled her hole with his middle finger before dipping it inside her. 

She let out a soft moan, the cold metal freezing and burning her all at once. He slipped another digit inside her, fucking her slowly and stretching her out to prepare her for his cock. It wasn’t like she needed preparation, his cock always slid perfectly into her cunt, but Piter liked to tease. 

She whimpered as he fingered her, gasping when the cold metal of another ring rubbed against her g spot. “Don’t tease me, my love…!”

“And why shouldn’t I?” He crooned. “I want to make this last…”

“Why make it last?” She asked breathlessly, reaching up to grip the back of his neck. “Why deny us both pleasure…when we have the rest of our lives to ‘make it last?’ Why deny us both pleasure…when we can spend the rest of the day making each other cum as many times as we can? Trust me, it’ll last then.”

He supposed she had a point. 

He withdrew his fingers from inside her, sucking them into his mouth and licking them clean as he stared into her eyes. Her taste was unlike anything else, like the purest of spice, the finest of meads, like pure ecstasy and love. He reached down to pull down his pants, just enough to expose his cock and his ass. He hiked up the skirt of her dress and pulled her panties halfway down her thighs. There was no time for fully undressing, he needed to be inside her now. 

Later, he would take her back to their bed and they would both strip nude and worship each other’s bodies long into the night. 

He guided his thick cock inside her, sliding in easily with how wet and aroused she was. He let out a low grunt as he filled her, and she let out a gasp as she was filled. Her slender hand went to his ass, gripping a handful of the soft flesh there and squeezing. Piter let out a soft chuckle. 

“So lewd…are you fond of my ass, pretty thing?” She didn’t answer verbally, only nodded. And Piter gripped her jaw. “I asked you a question, darling.”

“Yes…!” She managed. “Yes, I love your ass, I love every inch of you…!”

Piter smiled. “And I you, my darling.” And he began rutting into her, fucking her shallowly with only about half the length of his cock. Just to tease a little while longer. He grunted again, loving how she felt inside. So soft and warm, like the finest velvet pillows, gushing with her want for him. 

He was the one who made her like this. Only him. He was the one she agreed to marry. He was her love. And she was his. 

“Deeper…please…!” She pleaded, her voice quivering with pleasure. 

“You wish for…” Another grunt. Her cunt was so perfect, sliding over his every ridge and vein, practically sucking him in with every thrust. At this rate, she wouldn’t even need to beg. “For me to fuck you deeper, my love?”

“Yes…” she hissed, squeezing his ass tighter and using the leverage to try and push him in. “I want to feel you in my womb, fucking into me in the way only you can…! Please, my love…!”

He simply couldn’t resist her. 

He shoved his cock in all the way, his hips slamming against hers, and she let out a shriek as the head of his cock rammed perfectly against her g spot. He always struck it on the first thrust, without fail. He just knew her body so damn well. He knew exactly where to touch and what to say to make her squirm. And no one else could make her feel that way. 

And he began to fuck her in earnest, hard and deep thrusts inside her, grunting and striking her g spot with every thrust. She dug her nails into the flesh of his ass, making him growl and descend upon her neck. Her pale skin was already littered with bites and bruises from the night prior, but a few more marks couldn’t possibly hurt. He scraped his sharp teeth across her jugular and the knowledge that he could easily sink his teeth into her flesh and tear her throat open made his cock throb. The knowledge that he could, but he wouldn’t. And by the feeling of her pussy fluttering around his cock, he knew she was thinking the same thing. 

He sucked a new bruise between two old ones, leaving marks in the shape of his teeth along her neck and chest. Her skin was so soft, and she smelled so sweet…everything about her was like his own personal drug. Better than spice, better than anything in the universe. The sweet sounds she made, the bounce of her heavy breasts as he thrust into her again and again, the sting of her nails against his flesh, the sight of her emerald eyes rolling back in her head with pleasure…it was all so much. It was all so perfect. 

He couldn’t possibly last long like this. Not when the love of his wicked life was writhing and coming undone beneath him, on the floor of the gazebo within their private paradise. 

His thrusts grew sloppy, his grunts growing deeper and louder. Wyen knew these signs. After all, she knew his body as well as he knew hers. She knew he was on the brink, and she was too. She arched her back off the ground, pressing her body closer against his. “Are you about to cum, my love?” She asked. He nodded, eyes squeezed shut. “Cum for me, darling, cum inside my body…!”

A few more deep thrusts and groans, and he shoved himself as far inside her as he could and stilled, roaring, his hot, spice saturated cum spurting out in ropes inside her, painting her walls and womb white. And the feeling of his hot cum spreading inside her was enough to send her into her own orgasm, thrashing and screaming and digging her nails into his flesh until she was nearly drawing blood. 

They both took a moment to catch their breaths, still laying entangled on the marble floor. Piter pulled back to look at his lover—his fiancée—and smiled. 

“I will love you until the end of my twisted life,” he whispered. 

“And I will love you until the end of mine.” She gently stroked his cheek, emerald eyes shining with love. 

Piter reluctantly pulled out, gently kissing her forehead when she whined at the sudden emptiness, and helped her stand. She pulled her panties up and straightened her dress while he pulled his trousers back up. 

“You truly want this?” She asked him. “You truly want this, and you’re not just asking me to marry you because you believe it’s what I want?”

He held her waist and kissed her forehead again. “I want this, no—I need this. I need to have you as my bride, I need to call you my wife. I need to hear the servants and nobles alike address you as Lady de Vries.”

She hugged him, tucking her head under his chin. “And they will address me as such.” She finally took a moment to look at the ring he had given her. It was beautiful and intricate, made from black gold with small diamonds inset, and two black skulls supporting a heart shaped, blood red stone. “It’s beautiful…”

“I had it custom made just for you. And mine is being manufactured as we speak.” She gave him a look, and he chuckled. “Come now, darling. Did you truly think I wouldn’t wear a ring to display my betrothal to you? Mine also has skulls and small diamonds, but the gem is a simple oval, and the gold is white instead of black. I felt it fitting.” He ran his thumb over the crimson stone. “There is only one thing my ring still needs, my love. Do you know why this stone is red?”

She knew him well enough to know the answer. “It’s been dyed with your blood, hasn’t it? And you need my blood for your ring, I suppose?”

Piter smiled. “A mind as quick as a Mentat’s,” he crooned, giving her a soft kiss on her lips. “Would you willingly give your blood for that purpose?”

“I would willingly give my blood for far less than that, my love. Simply tell me when and where.”

“My beautiful seraph…” He held her cheek gently. “Now come. The day is still young, and we have much celebrating to do.”

He swept her into his arms and set off for their chambers. Any duties the Baron needed him for today could surely wait until tomorrow.

#Piter de Vries #dune 2021 #Dune 2021 fanfiction #piter de vries x oc #piter de vries x reader #david dastmalchian

[alwritey-aphrodite]

might as well be drunk in love

Pairing: OTTR!Leto x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of doing coke, vaguely sexual but no smut

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: happy thanksgiving! I think it’s a jank holiday but I’m thankful for all y’all and especially @foxilayde who I love and who lets me come barging into the wonderful world she made (go read Off To The Races if you haven’t already)

Thanksgiving is the un-sexiest of all holidays. Halloween has so many opportunities for sex amid all the blood and gore, Christmas and New Years have their own brand of swanky sex appeal, and Valentine’s Day is a no brainer. There’s just something about turkeys and thick sweaters and conversations with family members you’d rather not be having that ruin any and all opportunities to be a little slutty.

It’s been your goal, your one true desire in life, to make Thanksgiving sexy, and you think you’ve finally accomplished that as you dangle your legs from the kitchen counter, skin warmed from the sun and a roll dangling from your fingers, taken from the plate Leto had just asked you not to touch. You shift a little, legs swinging as you try and unstick your bare skin from the countertop as your sweat begins to dry.

As much as you love fall and the weather that comes with it, there’s something magical about being able to wear a bikini and lay out in the sun hours before Thanksgiving dinner. Sure, you always plead with Leto to turn up the air conditioning so you can wear all your sweaters and cozy clothes, but you like having the option of enjoying the Southern California sun or bundling up and pretending like it’s chilly outside.

Leto comes back into view, and you quickly swallow the rest of your roll, as if he won’t be able to tell what you’ve done. Still, you give him your sweetest smile and are rewarded with a kiss before he continues back to the stove, putting in all the work of cooking your Thanksgiving dinner while you’d been lounging in the sun. He loves to cook, though, and as much as you’d love to help, you’re sure everything will go much smoother if you steer clear of the stove. You’ll happily taste test anything he needs, and you sneak another roll from the dish as you hop off the counter.

“I’m going to change,” you announce, squishing the bread in your hand as you press a kiss to the back of his bare shoulder, but Leto’s quick, turning around and capturing you with his strong arms wrapped around your waist.

“What’d I say?” He asks, opening your palm to reveal the squashed piece of bread. You just smile, knowing you can get away with anything if he’s in a good mood and you flash that smile at him, popping the bread into his mouth for good measure.

“We could never eat all that anyway,” you counter as his hands drift lower, to the ties on the sides of your bottoms, and your eyes drift over to the full pile of rolls, just for the two of you.

“Go get dressed, you’re distracting me,” he says as if he’s not caging you in with his arms, as if you can’t feel the cool metal of his rings on your bare skin, as if his arms aren’t all out on display because he claimed the kitchen was too hot for a sweater, as if he isn’t growing out his beard for the colder months.

Really, if anyone’s a distraction, it’s him. It’s always him, and that infallible confidence he radiates in any situation, and that stupid chain he wears every day as if it wasn’t swinging in your face mere hours ago. It’s worse when he’s shirtless, or when he’s in one of his many ribbed tanks like he is now, because then all you can do is sit and stare at him, your brain shut off completely until he finishes getting dressed.

Still, you head back towards your bedroom to get dressed, and not because Leto told you to but because he cranks the AC, just as you’d asked him to, and you’re starting to feel like a human popsicle with so much exposed skin. Ignoring your own side of the large walk-in closet, you turn immediately towards Leto’s collection of warm cashmere, searching through the sweaters for your very favorite and immediately lifting it to your nose, inhaling the scent of his cologne that seems to cling to everything he wears, even after it’s been washed.

Slipping off your bikini top and tugging the sweater over your head, you stand bare legged, facing your side of the closet now and trying to figure out what to wear. Despite the fall ambience inside of your house, it’s still rather warm outside, even as your skin has now lost the heat it gathered from the sun, and you’re not sure how you’re supposed to dress. Today’s supposed to be casual, but nothing ever is with Leto and his designer furniture and four course meals, and you know he’d be happy with you in sweats or nothing at all, but you want to look nice for him.

Settling on a skirt with enough give so you can enjoy your dinner without worrying about bloating, you slip on a nicer pair of panties underneath your skirt, loving the instant surge of confidence you get. Padding back downstairs, you head to the kitchen to be near Leto, and to have him feed you off the spoon as he cooks. You hop back onto your spot on the counter, bare legs swinging, and admire the sight of your man at work, with the sounds of the Macy’s Parade filtering in from the living room.

“We should watch a Christmas movie later,” you say, more to alert him of your presence than anything, because you know he gets so focused when he’s in the kitchen it’s like nothing else exists, and the last thing you want is for him to startle when he sees you and drop a knife on his foot so then you have a spend Thanksgiving in the emergency room.

“Hm,” he hums, acknowledging your presence and your statement and waiting for you to say more as he stirs one of the many pots on the stove.

“Because, you know, there're really no Thanksgiving movies, and really who would want to watch one anyway,” you give a little shudder for dramatic effect even though Leto’s back is turned to you.

“Whatever you want,” he says, turning towards you and settling his ring adorned hands on your bare knees, “as long as you stop trying to steal all the bread before dinner.” You grin, knowing he’d let you pick the movie no matter what you did, and you lean forward to kiss him, his sturdy grip moving to your waist to keep you from falling forward off the counter.

It was meant to be a little kiss, really, just a quick I love you before you let him get back to cooking, but then his hands squeeze at your waist and your own hands move to his hair, to the longer curls now that he’s decided to grow them out of winter, and you can’t help the way you pull and tug and bring him closer, needing him more than oxygen and so focused on him that you forget your desire not to plummet off the countertop. You know he’d never let you fall, not even as he groans and pulls away, even as you chase after him.

“I’m gonna burn the fucking house down,” he says, giving your waist one last squeeze before he turns back to the stove and you try not to lose your mind. The afternoon passes in the same fashion, with Leto cooking and bringing over something for you to taste every few minutes while you try your best to distract him, if only to delight in the way he pulls away with a look that says he’d rather do the opposite.

“Go set the table,” he tells you, using his thumb to wipe away a bit of pasta sauce that was stuck to the corner of your mouth and the only reason you didn’t stick your tongue out to lick it away was because he was already heading back to the stove, turning off burners and opening up the oven, giving you no choice but to hop down off the counter and head for the silverware.

“Are you gonna change?” You ask, pausing in your digging for your favorite napkins to let your eyes rove up and down his body, not caring at all if he stays exactly how he is. His pants hug him perfectly, as they always do, and the white tank he’s wearing shows off his perfectly sculpted arms in a way that makes you want to drool. Even the apron wrapped around his waist makes you a little crazy, even though you’d never admit it makes you a tad bit sad when he takes it off.

Pressing a kiss to the side of your head, he goes off to get dressed, and you’re not sure if he’s realized or not that you’re already wearing his favorite sweater. You finish setting the table, just two places side by side at the large dining table, and you set about lighting all the candles you’d set up earlier, turning the empty atmosphere into something more cozy, more intimate.

Hearing him come down the stairs, you put away the lighter and search for the wine, the bottle you’d bought specifically for today even though typically neither of you are wine drinkers, it had just seemed like the right thing to do. If this was two years ago, last year even, he would have taken a bump while getting dressed and come downstairs with blown pupils and fucked you against the table after dinner, or during dinner.

It wasn’t that you had a holier-than-thou attitude or anything like that, or even that you wouldn’t have accepted his offer for your own bump from the vial he always keeps tucked away safely in his pocket, just in case, but sometimes you just wanted to have a nice evening, wanted to pretend that you were one of the regular, boring women who lived on your street and pretend not to notice their husbands habit as long as their platinum cards still work.

Tonight, though, Leto comes downstairs and presses himself against you, caging you against the counter as you struggle with opening the wine.

“The table looks nice,” he whispers against the skin of your neck, placing a delicate kiss there as he takes the bottle from your hands and opens it with ease. He steps away, even though you wish he wouldn’t, and finds the nice wine glasses you barely ever use.

“You know, I was looking for that sweater,” he says with a teasing tilt to his voice as he pours, taking both glasses and leading you to the table.

“I didn’t know you wanted to wear it,” you grin, knowing you both know that’s a lie, but you had gotten dressed first and figured it was fair game. He’s offered to buy you your own a few weeks back, but it wouldn’t be the same, wouldn’t smell like him and feel like he’s always wrapped around you, so you steal it and he pretends that it irritates him even though you know deep down he loves how much you love him, enough to take his expensive sweaters just to lounge around in.

The TV’s still playing whatever follows the parade, neither of you caring enough to walk over to the living room to turn it off. It adds ambience, you suppose, creates the illusion that there are more than two people here, the voices from the screen filling the space now that the stove and oven have been turned off. You can barely hear it from the dining room, but you really don’t mind it, and it’s always practically impossible for you to focus on anything other than Leto anyway.

After setting down both of the wine glasses and urging you into your seat, Leto had turned right back into the kitchen to start bringing the food to the table. He did it by himself, two or three dishes at a time, while ignoring any and all offers of your help, simply pressing a kiss wherever he could reach any time he walked past. You sip at your wine, moving around plates and bowls to make more room on the large table, unable to do what you’re told even when it’s to relax.

By the time Leto finally sits down, bringing with him the bread you’ve been stealing all morning, most of your absurdly large dining room table is full of food, an unbelievable amount of dishes for two people. There are favorites from your childhood and his, Leto having spent the weeks leading up to today practicing in the kitchen because he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make everything absolutely perfect. You know he could hire someone, hire a hundred someones just to make your dinner and not even bat an eye or make a dent in his money, but he likes being in the kitchen, likes being able to provide for you in every way he possibly can.

“Everything looks perfect,” you state the obvious when you see his sharp eyes scanning the table as if something’s missing, and you squeeze his hand where it rests next to yours. He smiles at you, flips his hand to grab hold of yours and bring it up for a kiss, gentle but setting fire to your whole body. It makes your heart twinge in a curious sort of way, like it can’t possibly process the tenderness of the action despite it not being all that out of the ordinary.

This isn’t your first Thanksgiving you’ve spent with Leto, but this is the first one with mountains of food and stolen sweaters and a hand on your knee that isn’t prodding for more. If this was a year ago, you would’ve been naked by now, fucked against the counter, eaten your dinner standing up before spending the foreseeable future in bed. There are fairly high odds that you’ll end up fucking on the couch instead of watching the first Christmas movie of the season or that the night’ll end with you fisting the expensive sheets you’d picked out last month, but even that feels oddly domestic, getting thoroughly fucked and used in the bed you make every morning.

“Hey,” Leto pulls you out of your self-reflection, his voice all soft and velvety in the way only you get to hear, in the way that still makes your heart melt a little, “eat your dinner.” You hadn’t even noticed that the hand that wasn’t still intertwined with yours had begun to scoop food onto his plate, that you were falling behind and sitting still, despite your many dramatic complaints of being starving for the past few hours.

Now, though, you pile your plate with all of your favorites, the serving dishes placed conveniently close to you, and the moan that escapes you with your first bite of dinner is downright pornograpic, and it’s a little shocking just how often Leto can pull those noises from you, in so many starkly different situations. He doesn’t comment though, just squeezes your hand and continues to eat, making no comments on the struggle of eating with his non-dominant hand.

The conversation veers towards light, frilly nonsense, all your decoration plans for the holidays and teasing remarks of the gifts you’d like, as if Leto wouldn’t buy you anything you wanted any day of the week. It’s pleasant, to pretend that nothing exists beyond the warm glow of your table, beyond the warmth of his hand in yours and the food in your belly, even though you know that come tomorrow, you’ll be left alone and in the dark about Leto’s dealings. Even though that’s the way you both prefer your lives to be, it’s nice to not need to worry about what he’s up to, even just for a day.

Once you’ve both finished eating, you start clearing the table before Leto can tell you to stop, because as much as you love being taken care of, you hate feeling useless, and you know that both of you cleaning together will make the chore go faster so the rest of your evening spent on the couch can begin. He tries to tell you to sit down, pushing a wine glass into your hand, but you simply place it on the counter and continue to put away all of the leftovers while wondering out loud just how long it’ll take the two of you to finish them.

Leto takes care of the dishes and doesn’t even bother to remove his rings, and it’s like he’s taunting you with the way they shimmer in the late afternoon sunlight. His hands are strong, thick fingers that should be rougher than they actually are, connected to hands that are duly capable of stroking your hair and breaking a man’s nose. You try not to drool as he dries them, as he picks up his own wine glass that looks positively flimsy in his grip. His other hand finds the small of your back, the heat of it apparent even through your sweater, and leads you out of the kitchen and into the luxuriously decorated living room.

It still looks a little modern and harsh and sharp, but the couch is beyond comfortable and you have big plans for the holiday season, plans that you know Leto will support no matter how many times he sighs dramatically when you cart your bags of expensive decor through the door. You’ll make it feel cozy and festive, and even though he’ll never say it, you can always tell that Leto appreciates your willingness to decorate for the seasons, to make his absurdly large house feel more like a home.

You can’t focus on that now, though, or anything really, because Leto has settled one of his ring adorned hands on your shoulder and is gently moving his fingers back and forth, drawing small circles and driving you insane. Even just the sight of him, of his hand or his beautiful nose or his strong jaw currently hidden beneath his beard, can send you crazy, make you unable to think of anything except for him and you’ve yet to determine if he does it on purpose or not.

Based on his full attention on the large TV screen, you’d say he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing to you. Sometimes it’s clear that he knows exactly the kind of power he holds over you, like when he catches you staring open-mouthed as he comes out of the closet in a new suit or when he joins you outside in one of his many linen shirts with the buttons undone. He knows exactly what he does to you, but now, you think he might just like having a hand on you, feeling you breathing beside him even as your heart ticks up and you try to focus back on the movie Leto had picked out just for you, the movie he complains about every single year but knows how much you love it.

Trying to get comfortable in your skirt that definitely isn’t built for relaxing evenings on the couch, you scooch even closer to him, pressing your side right up against his and feeling his chest fill and deflate with every breath. He’s handsy tonight, in an unusually but not at all uncomfortable unsexual way, like he just wants to know that you’re there. You can always tell when he’s teasing you, when he works you up until you’re spun so thin you can’t do anything but whine and whither around, but he’s not doing that now.

His hand falls from your shoulders and snakes its way under your sweater, resting on your warm stomach, the cool metal of his rings enough to make you shiver. You know he notices by the way he exhales through his nose with a little more force, a not-quite-chuckle that makes you a little crazy. Everything about him makes you a little crazy, sometimes in more ways than one. Now, though, he’s not trying to do that, he’s just resting his hand on your soft skin and feeling the way you inhale and exhale, feeling the little hitches in your breath when he uses his blunt nails to trail up and down near the waistband of your skirt. It’s all subconscious, though, so you try to focus back on the movie and not on all the little things Leto does that makes you want to forget everything else and straddle him.

Using all the restraint you have, you let yourself relax and enjoy the rest of the movie, shocked by the darkness that comes with the black screen as the film ends. Twisting around to glance out the large window, it looks as if it could be the middle of the night, even though you know it’s only late afternoon, with the yellow lights from the windows of other houses on the hill acting like stars or warning lights for airplanes flying too low. Even though you know it’s earlier than you’d typically eat dinner, you feel ready for bed, feel as though just closing your eyes would make you sleep for the next twelve hours.

You know that if you did fall asleep, Leto would carry you upstairs and change you into your disgustingly expensive pajamas and take off your makeup with as much care as he can muster before going out to have one last smoke on the balcony, making sure you’re fast asleep and comfortable before he quietly goes through his own extensive night routine. You don’t fall asleep though, instead stretching out your shoulders as Leto stands to bathe the room in a golden light, turning your house into just another one of a hundred from an overhead view.

“Ready for dessert?” You ask, even though you’re still a little full and choosing to ignore the glint in his eye because you’d been so well behaved the entire day, you won’t be folding now at the slightest hint from him. Maybe you fold a little, though, when you let him hoist you from the couch and carry you into the kitchen with your legs right around his waist, in a position that’s all too familiar for you. Still, he sets you gently on the countertop you’d perched yourself on earlier before turning towards the fridge and sifting through your mountain of leftovers to find the pie you’d been so excited about.

Even though your cooking skills are questionable, you’re able to follow instructions and following a recipe for a pumpkin pie was no different. It’s easier when you have every exact step laid out for you with specific measurements and baking times instead of the follow your heart bullshit that comes with cooking. You’d felt like a little housewife, wearing an apron and baking a pie, even though the apron was Leto’s and you struggled your way through a majority of the baking process, you’re still proud of the way it turned out.

Forgoing plates and knives, Leto sets the pie on the counter next to you and hands you a fork, and you waste no time before scooping up a bite of filling. This, mutilating a pumpkin pie seated on the counter with one of Leto’s warm hands on your knee, feels more intimate than the candlelit dinner you’d shared earlier. It’s easier, being with him like this when there are no expectations, no little voice in your head telling you how you should be standing or talking or laughing.

It feels normal in a way you’re not entirely used to, in a way that used to scare you, but now you embrace it wholeheartedly. You don’t worry about anything as you lean yourself forward to kiss him, except for his reaction when he realizes you’ve swiped whipped cream along that nose you love so much.

#duke leto atreides #duke leto x reader #duke leto x you #ottr leto #dune movie #dune fanfiction #dune 2021

[slayingqueenchal]

Interview(ed) | timothee chalamet x y/n

A remake of my first ever fanfic Interview. | Timothee chalamet x Reader (y/n) I'm a bit better at writing, comparing to my past self, this is full of fluff fluff fluffy, and I'm using second person perspective instead of first person perspective,and timmy describes you in french and it's like confessing! But I'll stfu rn, enjoy! (There's an ending to this not like the first one)

"Yes, how are you, y/n, Timothee! I am john" The interviewer said to you and timothee.

"Good good! " Said timothee, and you nodded with him. "Amazing, now, I'm going to ask you questions for both dune part 1&2, is that alright?" John ask and both of you nodded.

"So, timothee, how did you get the role of Paul atreides? " John asks while flipping his card.

"It was like every other auditions, it's a tough one, I was really lucky that I got the role" He explained, his hands were moving as he was speaking.

"Great, what about you, y/n" John asks. "It was my cousin, who made me audition for the role of alia atreides, she was nine, she's a, a really smart person, to the degree that she understood dune" You told John.

"Why haven't you told me this?! This is literally the cutest thing ever, Y/n" Timothee groaned.

John flipped another card. "You can choose to not answer this one, just tell me, but the fans are curious about you twos dating rumours, is that true? " He asks.

"That's fine" Said timothee, you told John "we're very platonic.. Too, platonic, sometimes" With a fake chuckle.

You always had feelings since you first met timothee. It's like, love at first sight.

"Oo, that's cool! Up to the next question! " He flips his card, "Can each of you tell me, who was the most funniest, adorable, relatable, nicest co-star in the whole film, say it at the same time! ".

"Okay.. Timmy, one" You said.

"Two" Timothee said.

"Three! " You said. You pointed at him, saying "you!". But, he had done the same thing to, he said you were the most fun from the whole dune film.

"Aww" John said. You realized that, you were blushing hard.

"Up to the final, special question, many fans have asked this, timothee, can you describe y/n kn french? " John asks.

"elle est belle, ma personne préférée dans le film, peut-être ma personne préférée dans le monde entier" Timothee says with a lot of emotions.

(she's beautiful, my favorite person in the film, maybe my favorite person in the whole world)

"elle est vraiment attentionnée, avec beaucoup de monde et je ne pouvais pas m'empêcher d'être jalouse" Timothee says.

(she's really caring, with a lot of people and I couldn't help but to be jealous)

"Je pense que j'ai des sentiments pour elle, mon amour"

(I think I have feeling for her, love)

"et je sais qu'il y aura un gars ou une fille française qui traduira ça, mais priez Dieu qu'elle ne le sache pas. c'est une belle, géniale, gentille personne et honnêtement je ne la mérite pas du tout mais c'est trop tard maintenant, je suis déjà tombé amoureux d'elle" He says

(and I know there's going to be a French guy or girl who is going to translate this, but, pray to God that she wouldn't know. she's a beautiful, great, nice person and I honestly don't deserve her, at all but it's too late now, I've already fallen for her)

"And I believe that's it, I guess" He says.

"That was great! I personally don't understand but, maybe there will be someone who will explain, well I'm ending soon so, thankyou so much for answering all of the questions! Goodnight and bye! " John says enthusiastically. Not you though, you and timothee looks like a dead zombie answering questions since seven in the morning to ten pm.

"Well, that's all guys, pack your stuff and you can go, goodnight! " Says the producer.

"Alright" You both said.

"Timmy! Goodnight" You said, waving at him. "Night, y/n" Timothee responses.

You walked down to your car in silence with your body guards, and got home safely.

You went upstairs, get cleaned up, and went for a good night sleep.

Everything was alright until a thousand notifications blew up on your phone.

"What the hell" You groaned, taking your phone. Though your eyes were blurry, you can still see.

Everyone one was tagging you all across the media.

"Oh my gosh, I'm French, and if you haven't watched the dune interview with buzzfeed, you're missing out! " The girl says and plays the audio.

'elle est belle, ma personne préférée dans le film, peut-être ma personne préférée dans le monde entier' the blurry audio says

"Timothee is saying how y/n is the best person in the world and later he says that he couldn't help but be jealous of people around her who she's nice with,OH MY GOSH, he says he thinks he has feelings for her, and that he doesn't deserve her but he has already fallen in love. Oh my gosh y'all" Says the girl.

You sat there for a second, trying to process what's going on.

Timothee, liking you back? Sounds like a daydream.

You opened your messages app to found timothee's was filled by apologizes, confession, and him saying sorry for a hundred times.

You wrote 'timmy, you don't need to say sorry, in fact, I love you too'. No, that's corny you changed it up a bit "timmy, you don't need to say sorry, in fact, I have feelings for you too".

You sent it with your eyes closed. Turning off the phone.

"Y/n, I have.. It's like love at first sight and since you've told me this, would you like, go out with me, I know I'm a sucker for asking this in chat but pleasee" The notification rings.

Well, you replied and, guess someone's going on a date.

This was really rushed I'm sorry

#timothee edit #timothee fluff #timothee x you #timothee imagine #timothee chamalet #timothee blurb #timothee icons #timothee x y/n #timothee angst #timothee chalamet #dune part one #dune 2021 #dune 2023 #call me by your name #paul atreides #duke leto atreides #dune 1984 #frank herbert's dune #children of dune #fanfiction #fanfic #y/n story #atyd regulus #regulus fanfiction #regulus black x sister!reader #regulus headcanon #regulus black #regulus angst #regulus deserved better #regulus and evan and barty

[kaiandthestrangespaghetti]

About & Masterlist (Updated 22/01/23)

Hi there I'm Kai, she/her fanfic writer in my 30's. My ask is always open for requests/thots/prompts. As is probably obvious, I have a momoa fixation, so send me those and they'll definitely get written. I write F/M, NB/M and gender neutral/male pairings. I don't use y/n x

Feel free to reblog any works! All comments/likes/asks ect are cupcakes that make me more shameless and keep me producing this stuff. I also have a fic rec sideblog here, send me your stuff and I'll read it!

These works contain smut and violence, you will need to have mature content visible in your settings to view them. 18+ only, minors do not interact please. Please heed the warnings on individual works.

You, like everyone else labelled 'Bad Batch' have been abandoned in the desert. Miami Man, the leader of a group of cannibalistic desert dwellers finds you. You prove yourself much more useful alive than dead.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

(I'm treating this particular series as complete, but it is open to further spin offs with the same reader insert character)

Body and Soul (non canonical one shot set in the same verse)

A handmaid to Lady Jessica, you've requested to be trained in combat and self defense. Your teacher is the Swordmaster of House Atreides, Duncan Idaho. You find yourself sparring in more ways than one.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

They can watch (Occurring loosely after the events of Sparring Partner)

#dune #dune 2021 #the bad batch fanfic #the bad batch fanfiction #dune fanfiction #dune fanfic #miami man #miami man x reader #duncan idaho #duncan idaho x reader #jason momoa #the bad batch

[jakelcckley]

WHEN I FIRST SAW THIS ---

I IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT OF THIS

that subtle eyebrow raise every time someone fixes his suit for him 🫠

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvels moon knight #oscar isaac #oscar isaac hernandez estrada #duke leto atreides #leto atreides #dune #dune 2021 #moonknightedit #moon knight spoilers #moon knight theory #marvel moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #jakelcckley #moon knight series #mcugifs #mcu gif #marvel cinematic universe moonknight #mcu fandom #mcufam #moon knight fanfic #mcuedit #moon knight tv #moon knight imagines

[alexagirlie]

Close Your Eyes and Think of Caladan

(Masterlist)

A/N Here is the first part to the Close Your Eyes Series. I first write this 2 years ago. It has not been re-edited so i apologize for the grammar. I am very very mean to everyone. Please heed the tags. Part 2 will be posted soon! Thank you to @zaldritzosrose for the header!

Fandom: Dune

Pairing: Paul/Duncan (offscreen/implied), Paul/Trauma, Paul/Harkonnen(s)

TW: DDDNE. NON-CON. Canon Divergent. Banquet Scene AU. Major Character Death. The Baron is a Lecherous Animal. Angst. Hurt no Comfort. No Lube. Blood as Lube. Non Consensual Drug Use. Non Consensual Voyeurism. Non Consensual Touching. Non Consensual Oral. GangBang. Spitroasting. Murder.

Summary: "You are going to do everything that I say, everything." The Baron leaned forward in his seat menacingly, his shadow stretching down the table like a phantom. "If you do this and if I'm pleased with your effort I will allow your Father to live and he can join you and your witch mother in exile."

"Strip" The single word made every cell in Paul's body crawl, the reality of what he was about to do making him feel sick. But if his father had to go through the indignity of being drugged, helpless and naked in front of the enemy then so too could Paul. He could handle whatever needed to be done to save his fathers life.

Word count: 5.5K

Taglist: @valeskafics

Paul regained consciousness slowly as he was being dragged along the hard stone hallway outside his bed chambers. Rough hands wrapped around his ankles and animalistic laughter, deep voices speaking to each other. His hair caught and snagged on every little crack in the floor knotting the wild curls. The side of his face felt rubbed raw from sand and grit.

He couldn't make out the words of the conversation happening between the men dragging him. The effects of the sedative Dr Yueh had given him still pulled his mind down and made everything sound like he was underwater. All Paul knew was that he was in trouble and he had to get away. These men were not friends of House Atreides but enemies which had found their way into his room. Who knew who else they had taken, who else they had hurt.

Paul struggled to utilize all his Bene Gesserit training to drive the drug from his system. To fight and regain control of his body like he had been trained to do but it was no use. The drug was still too strong, designed to give him a full night of uninterrupted, dreamless sleep. He was uncoordinated, his limbs weak and not responding to the orders he gave them. He could move them just enough for his legs to twitch, for the men dragging him to notice that he was awake. They dropped him to the floor and two others stepped forward, grabbing him under each arm and continuing up the hallway. His feet kicking and scraping off the stone but he was unable to get his legs under him and stand.

They travelled for many minutes, down corridor after dark corridor that stank of blood, sweat and terror. The further they went the more Paul felt the effects of the sedative wear off and he tried to pull upon the powers of The Voice to aid in his escape. But he could not pull his focus enough to find the right pitch. Still he tried, over and over, voice getting louder and louder.

"Unhand me!"

"Let go of me!"

"You will not win, my Father will see your throat slit for this!"

Finally one of the Harkonnen soldiers grew tired of his words and he moved to strike Paul sharply across the face. It was hard enough to make his ears ring and blood dripped from his nose. Paul stopped trying, accepting now was not the right time. He needed to wait for the sedative to wear off further and his head to clear before he could try and use The Voice.

They turned the last corner before the Banquet hall and Paul could see the several Harkonnen soldiers which stood guard. And to his confusion he could see Dr Yueh. The Doctor was unrestrained and appeared to be unharmed though a look of panic grew on his face when he saw Paul being carried towards the door. Dr Yueh stepped forward and intercepted the men that held Paul captive. He began to question them in a hushed voice filled with barely restrained terror.

"What is going on? He is supposed to be with Lady Jessica. To be taken out into the desert and released into exile."

As Dr Yueh questioned the men, Paul came to the sinking realization that the House of Atreides had been betrayed. That the Doctor who had taken care of him for most of his life was a traitor and had sold them out to the Baron. Fury rose up within Paul, swift and burning in his chest, teeth clenched. Giving a sharp tug on his arms he managed to pull one of his arms free from the soldiers holding him. It granted him enough freedom to swing out with an open hand, slapped the Doctor across the face. The sound if flesh to flesh echoing down the hall.

"You traitor! You fucking trai-" His tirad was cut off by a hand that gripped into his hair and yanked his body back sharply. It pulled a yelp from his mouth and forced him down to one knee before it let him go. He glared up at those standing above him. Paul kept his mouth shut and waited to see what would happen next, mind spinning.

There was a long tense minute where no one spoke before one of the men finally answered the Doctor, "The Baron changed his mind, he demands to see the boy first before releasing him to his fate." The man stepped forward into Dr Yueh's space and met his gaze head on. "Now stand aside Doctor before you find yourself in need of fixing."

The two men stared at each other for a breath before Dr Yueh stepped aside without further comment. By now Paul was able to stand on his own, though his knees still felt weak. On wobbly legs he was able to move forward under his own power and no longer needed to be dragged.

They entered the room and Paul gaze locked onto a naked body sprawled limply in the chair closest to the door. Paul can feel his terror growing, his heart pounded, sweat gathered under his arms and in the small of his back. The soldiers led him further into the room and Paul could see that the body was his father, his eyes were open staring unblinkingly up at the ceiling. He could see his chest rise and fall so he was alive but he wasn't moving.

A voice sounded out from the far end of the room and pulled Paul's attention reluctantly away from his Father.

"Ah the young Paul, we meet at last" Seated at the other end of the banquet table was the most grotesque man Paul had ever seen. His bald head gleamed with sweat and his skin was an ashen shade of gray. His body looked misshapen under his black robes and his chin was covered in smears of food. There was a huge spread of food in front of him and he was stuffing his face. Handful after handful. It seemed he had found the time to raid the kitchen during his great siege upon House Atreides. This must be the Baron of house Harkonnen.

They came to a stop a few feet up the length of the table, the soldiers released Paul and stepped back. Left him alone to face the Baron. Paul tried to keep his disgust off his face, not wanting to make the situation worse, his mind whirled as he tried to come up with a solution the ended with his father and himself able to escape.

He considered a second attempt at using The Voice again but a glance around the room showed over a dozen. He would only have one chance to use The Voice and he wasn't sure if he would be successful with so many to control. Paul decided to save that skill for a time with a better chance of success, hopefully it would present itself soon.

"Such a pretty thing aren't you?" Paul can feel the Barons gaze like a caress, slimy and black as oil on his skin. Nausea built in his stomach at the implications behind the Barons comment. "Stand there quietly Child while we finish our business then we can get to know eachother better"

Paul felt bile rising up his throat and struggled to keep it down. He would not throw up, he was the son of the Duke, the son of a Bene Gesserit sister and he would not let his fear control him. He ran through the Litany against Fear in his head while the Baron conversed with the others around him.

'I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration" He could hear the conversation the Baron was having with Dr Yueh, it explained the deal they had made, the motivation behind the Doctor's betrayal. How they had his wife, how they promised to release her and reunite them.

'I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.'

Paul flinched at the slick wet sound of a blade being slid into flesh, a gurgle and a thud as Dr Yueh's body hit the floor. The traitor joined his wife in the release of death. The Baron turned his attention back to Paul, his beady black eyes swept over him from head to toe then slowly back up. A sick grin spread across his sticky, sweaty face.

"You are going to do everything that I say, everything." The Baron leaned forward in his seat menacingly, his shadow stretching down the table like a phantom. "If you do this and if I'm pleased with your effort I will allow your Father to live and he can join you and your witch mother in exile."

Paul stared at the Baron in disbelief, did he think Paul stupid? That he would just take him at his word and blindly agree.

"Why should I believe a word you say?" Paul asked "What's to stop you from killing us no matter what I do?"

The Baron let out a chuckle, humorless and menacing. The air seemed to drop several degrees, the sweat on the small of Paul's back cold enough to send a chill up his spine. Or that was the reason Paul had settled on, he refused to let his fear control him. He may have been deluding himself.

"Absolutely nothing," was the response "but you can count on me gutting your father like a pig if you don't." The threat rang with truth.

"Strip" The single word made every cell in Paul's body crawl, the reality of what he was about to do making him feel sick. But if his father had to go through the indignity of being drugged, helpless and naked in front of the enemy then so too could Paul. He could handle whatever needed to be done to save his fathers life.

His night clothes were loose and comfortable, easy to take off. Paul pulled the fear-sweat soaked shirt over his head, dropping it to the ground at his feet. Next he pulled the waistband of his pants down over his hips and ass and let gravity pull them the rest of the way down to his feet. Stepping out of them he kicked the pile of clothes away. He wore nothing underneath, he had hoped for a visit from his swordmaster during the early hours of the morning.

Paul's face burned red with shame but he made no move to cover himself after he had finished getting undressed. Kept his arms firmly at his side, chin held high, he refused to allow the Baron to humiliate him. He had been naked in front of others before, during outdoor survival training back on Caladan.

"Good boy" Paul could feel the flush moving down his chest. This time part of it was fueled by anger, not just embarrassment. Only one person was allowed to call him boy, "Bend over the table".

Paul's blood ran cold and he froze in place, not even daring to breathe. He must have heard incorrectly, this was not what was about to happen. Next thing he knew he had been grabbed by rough hands and was forced face down over the table. He barely had enough time to turn his head to the side in order to avoid having his nose smashed into the hard stone. His head rang from the blow to his temple and he struggled against the hands which held him down by the shoulders.

The soldiers that held his arms pulled them out to the side so they were extended flat against the table and a third came up behind him. A booted foot roughly kicked his legs out wider while a hand came to rest against the side of his head to hold it in place. Paul had no leverage to try and get his upper body off the table and his legs were spread too wide to keep his balance enough to try and kick out.

The Baron waited until Paul was firmly in place before he rose from his seat. Lift repulsor buzzing as he glided down the length of the table, past Paul and came to a stop next to Leto's chair. He addressed his next words to the Duke directly.

"My men are going to reap the rewards of conquest, using your son's body however they see fit. If he lives by the end and has put on a good show then you will be released together into the desert."

His speech made, the Baron drifted back to the other end of the room and took his seat to watch the show unfold.

Leto had thought that being betrayed by one of his own trusted men, paralyzed, stripped naked and left prown was to be the worst part of his final moments. He was wrong. He had watched in horror as his Son was brought in, as he heard the Baron's words. Leto's freedom to be used as leverage against Paul.

The Baron lowered Leto's chin just enough so he could see his son, pressed firmly to the table just feet away from him. He watched as the first Harkonnen soldier, the one that stood at Paul's back, reached down with the hand not holding Paul's head down and removed bits of his armour and pulled his hard cock from his pants. He watched as that same soldier stepped closer to his son and forced his cock into Paul's unwilling body.

He watched as Paul let out a heart wrenching scream which cut off as he let out a sob. Tears ran down his face to puddle on the table top below. He was screaming, pleading with the man to stop but all he got was vicious laughter in response. His body jerked forward with each thrust, and with each thrust his pleader got quieter and his sobbing and screaming got louder and more desperate.

Leto screamed along with his son, only he could not get his mouth to move, to let the noise out. All he could produce was a high moaning sound, the drug still had a firm hold on his body. In his mind he begged and begged for the scene in front of him to stop, to not make him watch as his son was brutalized in front of his eyes.

Leto watched as the fight drained out of his son, watched as the first soldier's thrust grew more erratic and he spasmed, coming inside of Paul and let out a deep satisfied groan. He watched the soldier pull out, and in his wake a stream of blood and cum flowed down the inside of Paul's thighs. Another soldier took the first man's place and it began again and again and again.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl and half a dozen Harkonnens had taken their turn with Paul's body. His son no longer screamed, just made a high pitched pained sound each time the man behind him thrust in. His hips slammed against the stone table, and bruises had begun to form on his body. Finger shaped on his hips and upper thighs, bite marks on his back and shoulders. His eyes were glossy, red rimmed and unseeing, face pale and covered in spilled tears and snot.

The soldiers had exchanged jokes and crude remarks as they took their turns with Paul. Commented on how tight he was or how good he felt around their cocks. Leto had tried to ignore them until one comment grabbed his attention in the worst way.

"Heeey let's have a go at that pretty mouth of his, bring him 'round!" More laughter met those words and Leto felt a tear slide down his cheek as they manhandled his son onto the floor. Down onto his hands and knees. The soldier who made the comment moved to stand in front of Paul, slide a hand into his curls and pulled his face up.

He watched as the man forced his cock into Paul's mouth, heard his son gag and choke at the intrusion into his airway. Heard the horrible wet sounds they made with each thrust. Watched as a second soldier knelt down behind Paul and thrust inside him and Leto screamed.

"If I feel teeth I will knock them out of your mouth" The man spoke barely above a whisper but Leto heard him all the same.

Duncan awoke to the sounds of men yelling and distant explosions. He jumped out of bed, stopped long enough to pull a shirt over his head and grab his sword belt. He didn't wait to strap it on, he buckled it up as he sprinted out of the room.

Speeding down several corridors his heart sank as he took in the distant forms of Sardaukar soldiers and the fallen bodies of servants. The Emperor had taken a side, and it was not with the House Atreides.

He slips past the first group he had come across but soon his luck runs out. Coming to a fork in the hallway he sees a form up ahead in the dark. He pulls his longsword from his belt and moves to confront the soldier. Footsteps and panting breath from his left let him know there were more Sardaukars approaching. He drew his other blade and moved into action.

It was a matter of five, six strikes and the first three men were dead on the floor. A fourth fires a dart from up the corridor, Duncan barely blocking before throwing one of his blades at the man to halt his momentum. He takes a running leap driving his knee into the soldier's chest, driving him to the ground.

The man under him tries to get a hold on his shoulder but Duncan throws him off, bringing his other arm down to strike the killing blow. He gets up, collects his dropped blade and continues on to the Ducal family's sleeping quarters.

His first stop was to check the Duke room; he hoped to find Leto and Lady Jessica still safe in their bed. The room was empty when he arrived, sheets still warm to the touch.

Next Duncan raced to Paul's room, praying that he would not find the same. That he would find Paul safe, his parents by his side. Guards at the ready.

He jogged around the corner towards Paul's room and his stomach sunk. There were no guards and the door to Paul's room was ajar. He burst into the room and confirmed his fears. The room was empty.

"Paul…" His lover's name escaped his mouth in a whisper and he paused just over the threshold. The bed was unmade and one of the chairs had been knocked onto its side.

There was still a chance the Ducal family had made their escape. He would head to the hanger next, to try and steal a thopter and head into the desert. The protocol the Duke and his warmaster created prior to their arrival on Arrakis dictated that was his next move If Paul had escaped he would activate his beacon so Duncan could find him.

"I heard the Baron is letting us have turns with the little Duke. Apparently his ass is so sweet and he's a real screamer" His companion laughed and clapped the first on the shoulder.

He made it several corridors without seeing another living being. Hearing distant voices Duncan pauses and waits to see who was approaching. He watched another two enemy soldiers from the shadows, this time dressed in the armour of House Harkonnen. He was about to spring out for the kill when one of them spoke.

"Well then we must hurry so we can get a piece of that before the others ruin him".

Duncan's blood froze and his vision turned red before he sprung into action, both their throats slit before they could register that they were being attacked. Blood splattered across his face and chest but Duncan ignored it as he took off running towards the banquet hall, the most logical place for the Baron to be. Duncan operated purely on instinct while a single thought ran on repeat in his head.

'They have Paul, they have Paul, they have P-'

Duncan slows down to a silent crouching walk as he nears the hallway that led to the banquet room, the Baron would have the door guarded and he did not want to alert them to his presence. He peeked around the corner and saw that he was correct. There were two men guarding the door but Duncan could tell they were distracted. He could also take a guess at what it was that distracted them. The door to the banquet room was opened, just a crack, but that was enough for the noises from within to drift out into the hallway.

The sound of skin against skin and muffled whines and broken off sobbing.

He bursts into the room with a roar. In a matter of seconds he sees Leto naked in a chair at one end of the table, the Baron seated with a feast before him at the other end. Then Duncan see's Paul, on his hands and knees on the floor. One soldier bent over his back, hips moving at a punishing pace and another at his front, using his mouth. Tears were streaming down Paul's cheeks mixing with the saliva that glistened on his chin. Blood was running in a thin stream down his inner thigh, the red glaring against the white of his skin.

Duncan feels rage boil in his chest, hor and swift and before he even has a chance to think about what he doing he has rushed towards the door, killing the two guards.

Tears were rolling steadily down Leto's cheeks as the wounded noises coming out of his son continued to increase in intensity. There seemed to be no end to the Harkonnen animals lining up to take their turn with him. One would finish, take their leave and another would step forward. He wasn't sure how much more Paul's body could take before it simply gave out.

Leto briefly considered releasing the poison hidden in his mouth, in the tooth Dr Yueh had replaced. It would release Paul from his abuse but Leto couldn't be sure it would travel far enough to also kill the Baron and he had to kill him. This would all be in vain if he couldn't kill the Baron.

Suddenly Leto hears an inhuman roar, full of rage and hate and then Duncan Idaho bursts into the room. He can hear the thud of the two guards at the door falling dead as his swordmaster moves over the threshold. Sees the silver-gray blur of blades flying through the air, killing another two. They had not yet reactivated their shields after having their turn with Paul.

The last two Harkonnen soldiers had only just begun their attack on Paul's abused body when Duncan arrived on scene. They moved quickly to intercept the intruder, barely doing their pants up first. They met in a clash of swords just at the edge of Leto's peripherals. He could see Duncan strike, swift and brutal, easily overpowering them and ending the melee in a matter of seconds. Their bodies hadn't even hit the floor before the swordmaster was rushing to Paul's side.

He sees movement at the other end of the room and pulls his gaze away from Paul and Duncan in time to see the tail end of the Barons robes as they flutter out the door. The coward had taken the first opportunity to make a run for it. No doubt he would be sending reinforcements soon. Leto needed to ensure Paul's safety, and quickly.

Paul who has slumped to the ground in a pile of pale limbs and lays unmoving, eyes staring off into the distance. If it wasn't for the fact Leto could still see his chest moving with his breath he would assume his son was dead.

Duncan gutted the last enemy present in the room, the Baron having mysteriously disappeared during all the attack. He rushes to Paul's side, placing a discarded cloak over his naked form and pulling the pile of his shirt and pants closer. He reaches out to gently touch Paul's curls but freezes when Paul violently flinches away from his hand. Paul not yet recognizing that it was Duncan and not one of those animals that had raped him.

"I'm so sorry my boy… I need you to get dressed so we can escape" He explained gently, hoping a familiar voice will allow Paul to come back from wherever his mind had gone. He nudged the pile of clothes even closer and dared to breathe a small sigh of relief when Paul reached out with shaking hands to grab his pants. "That's it my boy".

Duncan watched as Paul got dressed then tried reaching out again. "I'm going to carry you now, okay Paul?"

This time there was no reaction from Paul. His mind once again retreating in the wake of his rape. Duncan takes the risk and wraps the cloak back around his shoulders, bundles him up and picks Paul up in his arms and carries him to his Fathers side.

"My Lord, can you move?" Duncan knelt by Leto's side, subtly giving him a once over, checking for injury beyond his nakedness.

The Duke could barely open his mouth to answer.

"..no.. you must leave me.." His voice was barely above a whisper, Duncan having to strain to hear his words, "get Paul… away…"

"It will be done"

Duncan closed his eyes and knew that he would not be able to save his Duke and Paul. Not if Leto could not yet move. He shifted Paul's weight in his arms and nodded to Leto to show that he understood. He would have to leave his Duke, his friend and knew that by doing so his life would be forfeited. The Baron would see to it.

Leto let himself feel relief as Duncan carried Paul away. He knew that the swordmaster would do everything in his power to see his son to safety. He did not know when it had begun but anyone with eyes could see that the two were in love. It was written in every interaction the two had. He trusted no one more than Duncan to look after Paul.

The feeling had only just begun to return to Leto's limbs when the Baron made his reappearance. Flanked by over a dozen of his soldiers. It seemed he was not willing to risk Duncan Idaho's blood lust after what had been done to his charge.

Leto can hear the whirl of his lift repulsors as he floats his way across the room. His robes dragged across the floor with a soft slithering sound. The Baron approached Leto's prone form when the duke saw him hesitate mere feet away. It seems his paranoia was showing and he activated his own shield before finishing his approach.

"For hundreds of years we’ve traded blood for blood. But no more. Your son is broken, he will not survive long in the desert. Your concubine is dead. Tonight the House Atreides falls…and soon your bloodline will end forever".

As the Baron was giving his speech he had been leaning further and further into Leto's space. This gave Leto an idea, an opportunity to finally utilize the poison tooth Dr Yueh had left him with. He opens his mouth just enough for sound to escape, he needs to draw the Baron in even closer.

"Here I am. Here I remain" Leto bites the tooth, opens his mouth and breathes the poison into the air.

"What did you say?" It seemed to work as the Baron closed several more inches.

Duncan carries Paul through the palace, keeping to the shadows and out of sight of any other person. As they approach the hanger area he finds a secluded corner just outside the entrance to set Paul down while he investigates. He creeps down the corridor and peaks his head into the entrance of the hanger. He counts roughly a dozen Harkonnen soldiers loitering around, more than he can typically handle in a single fight. He will have to come in fast and brutal, make a show of force and hope they think him not worth the effort.

Duncan makes his way back to where he left Paul, hoping he has roused on his own but he is still zoned out. He is slumped against the wall, eyes staring into the distance. Duncan risks reaching a slow hand out and running his fingers through Paul's hair, trying to detangle some of the knots. Normally Paul would find the action grounding, one common between them after a nightmare but Duncan gets no reaction.

Duncan says a silent apology to his lover and resorts to a single sharp slap across the cheek. He can see Paul's mind snap back into focus, a look of shock coming across his face. Duncan was glad to see some emotion on Paul's face, even if he did not like the method he had to use to put it there. His boy has had enough pain.

As an apology he cups Paul's face between his palms, one thumbs gently stroking across his cheek.

"Listen to me Paul, are you listening?" Duncan waits for Paul to nod in acknowledgement. "There are only a few stragglers in the hanger, I'm going to take care of them, then we are going to take one of the 'thopters. When I call for you, you need to be ready to move. Can you do that?"

Duncan holds Paul's gaze and waits for him to nod again "I need you to say it out loud my boy".

"I understand… when you call for me, I run" Paul recited back to Duncan, voice barely above a whisper, the sound strained and hoarse. Duncan's blood boiled at the memory of what had caused Paul's voice to sound like that, at the image burned into his brain of the Harkonnen animals taking him from both ends. The sound of skin on skin, the pained sounds that had escaped Paul's mouth even while gagged with cock. He fought with himself, with his rage, and shoved the feeling into a box to deal with later. He needed to focus on the here and now, on the men he needed to kill, on the job he still had to complete. They needed to escape Arrakeen and he needed to get Paul to safety.

"Good, stay close and be ready." Pulling his blades from their sheaths with a quiet hiss, Duncan leaned back around the corner into the hanger, just enough to double check their position before he moved in.

They stay low and against the wall of the hanger, circling around to the group closest to 'thopter. Using the Atreides battlesign Duncan tells Paul to stay put before springing out of the shadows. He kills the four men in quick order, they had stupidly left their shields off maling them an easier fight then expected. The scuffle had drawn the attention of another group a few feet away but Duncan saw them hesitate.

Together they climbed into the 'thopter, Duncan at the controls and took off.

He lets out a war cry, slamming his blades together, the sound of metal on metal ringing out. He stalks towards them, pointing his long sword in a challenge which they luckily do not rise to meet. He turns to motion Paul forward only to see the young man already most of the way to his side.

Paul felt empty, like someone had opened his chest and removed all things vital for life. He felt broken, his body screaming at him, to run, to hide, to wither away and die. He had allowed those men to touch him, to take what did not belong to them. What had only ever belonged to the man beside him.

To infect him and make him unclean. He could feel the mixture of cum and blood dripping from his hole, the seat of his pants wet with it.

His fathers absence salt on the wound. After all that he had endured they had to leave him behind. The Baron would never let him live.

The only thing stopping Paul from throwing himself out of the moving 'thopter was the knowledge that Duncan would not hesitate to follow him into death. He would live, to stay with Duncan, to find his Mother, to avenge his Father and himself. The Harkonnens would pay. Blood called for Blood.

#kirstin's chronicles #dddne #non-con #dark fic #dune #dune fanfiction #paul atreides #duncan idaho #atreidaho #paul x duncan #paul/duncan #angst #dune 2021

[the-oscar-isaac-collective]

Welcome to The Oscar Isaac Collective!

What is The Oscar Isaac Collective?

The OI Collective is an organization created by fans, for fans of the Oscar Isaac fandom. We host fan-based publications and events that feature Oscar Isaac's beloved characters.

Our primary goal is to create a space where anyone with an interest in creating fan works for the OI fandom, regardless of skill or experience, can feel welcome to participate in projects and events together!

Who is running the collective?

@melodygatesauthor

@xbellaxcarolinax

@casuallycorvid

What's Currently in the Works?

Coffee & Cream Digital Fanzine - Masterpost - Carrd

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#oscar isaac #oscar isaac fandom #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac fanart #moon knight #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant #oscar isaac fanzine #TOIC fanzine #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac hernandez estrada #oscar isaac fic #duke leto #dune #dune 2021 #duke leto atreides #moon boys #blue jones #sucker punch #inside llewyn davis #llewyn davis #robin hood 2010 #king john oscar isaac #king john #poe dameron #star wars #santiago garcia #triple frontier #basil stitt

[l8rs-gat0rs]

Kiss it Better

Pairing: Duke Leto X Female Reader

Warning(s): SMUT! (starting off strong lmao) very romantic eating out on a blanket under the stars in the rain. Fluff so sweet it will make your teeth rot. But beware, there is a bit of angst.

Summary: Leto finds his lover reminiscing about her childhood. She is having regrets, but the duke is determined to relieve her pain in one of her favorite ways.

Word count: 2.2k

18+ MINORS DNI

Enjoy😁

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a cool night on Caladan. You sat on a blanket you had laid out over the grass, as you stared up at the sky, watching the stars that you could barely see through the clouds. The sky wasn't too dark, since the since was just about to set, but you still kept a lantern closer to the blanket.

Judging by the clouds, it was definitely going to rain soon, but you did not feel the need to go back to your chambers.

You heard approaching footsteps, but you didn't bother turning around to see who it was, you knew the only person who knew your secret spot.

"You should come inside my love. It is going to rain soon" you heard the voice of your lover say.

"Mmm, I'll be in soon" you said, dismissing him.

You heard him take a few more steps towards you before he sat down next to you on the blanket.

"What's got your mind so crowded my gem?" He asked softly, looking at the few stars along with the moon that were visible.

"It's nothing" you said quietly.

You felt him Grab your chin softly, before slowly moving your head to meet his gaze.

"Hey, If it's making you think like this, then it's something." He said.

He watched fondly as you closed your eyes and nuzzled his hand, the light from the flame of the lantern dancing on your skin beautifully.

When you opened them you met his warm gaze and you sighed, before preparing to explain everything to him.

"Well, if you must know, I'm thinking of my childhood." You said, causing his face to instantly soften even more.

Leto vaguely knew about your rough upbringing. When you first met, he was strolling through the marketplace and he saw you working so hard in your parent's restaurant that you had burned your hands.

He had quickly rushed to you and took your hands in his. He remembered fondly, the look of shock you had as you looked up and saw the young Duke of Caladan looking over your hands worriedly.

You had sat down with him as he wrapped your hands silently with bandages he had ordered his guards to fetch. He also remembered how shocked your parents were to find the Duke in their restaurant when they came back from fetching ingredients.

The Duke knew you were poor. And he knew taking you to be his concubine would cause people to talk. But he didn't care. He had fallen for you from the first time you met.

He was bought back to the present moment when you spoke again.

"My life was very rough as a child. My parents always had to say no to things I asked for no matter how bad I wanted them, because we couldn't afford much." You said sadly, looking back to the sky.

Leto frowned and caressed your cheek as you continued speaking.

"As you know, I am educated, but during my education, I also had to work in my parents' restaurant."

"Yes, and that is how we met" he said with a soft smile, causing you to smile as well.

"Yes but it was a hard life. I worked hard. My parents worked hard as well. I was robbed of my childhood, and they were robbed of a proper life. And once I got the opportunity to give them one," you said, referring to the life you now lived with Leto,

"They died." You finished with a tear down your cheek.

You felt selfish and childish, wishing you could have everything you wanted when you were a child. Other children probably had it worse than you.

But it broke Leto's heart to see you cry.

You shook your head as he wiped the tears from your cheeks and placed a small kiss on your lips.

Your brows furrowed as he pulled away and you surged forward to capture his lips again.

When you pulled away for air, Leto and you both leaned on one hand, with your foreheads touching. Your eyes were still closed as you took In the scent of him.

"I am so sorry my love" Leto said sadly.

"It's okay, I know they were so proud of me and happy that they got to see me fall in love." You said pulling your forehead away and looking at him with all the love and adoration you could possibly show.

His heart swelled at the sight, as well as your words, and he rushed forward to capture your lips In another kiss.

This one was slightly rough and caused both of you to fall onto the blanket, so you were now both laying on your sides, causing you to giggle into the kiss.

He chuckled as well

"I'm sure what you say is true" he said with a smile before he started kissing all over your face.

You closed your eyes once again, and enjoyed feeling the chill of the cool, wet air of Caladan mixed with the burning hot passionate kisses Leto was slowly placing all over your face.

He then moved lower, kissing your jawline, then down to your neck, and you could feel his messy curls starting to tickle your face.

You let out a sigh of appreciation as he continued to place kisses against your neck.

When he found your sweet spot you gasped, as he started to suck on your neck, looking to make a mark.

You moaned loudly before pushing him away, and looking to his now dark eyes.

"You can't leave a mark, it's not proper!" You whisper-shouted at him, still breathing heavily.

"Then let me leave one where no one will see" he said, his voice low as he gazed at your lips, before glancing back to your eyes.

You nodded slowly and you felt his hand move up the smooth skin of my leg, gasping as you looked down at his hand.

"No, keep your eyes on me sweetheart" he said, causing your eyes to snap back to his.

He sat up on his elbow.

As he lifted his hand father up your leg, the skirt of your long flowy dress rode up with his hand, exposing more of your skin to the cool air.

"Leto..." You whispered his name

"Im right here sweetheart" he said, before pressing his lips to yours to blissfully swallow your moan.

He also used that as an opportunity to push his tongue inside your mouth.

His hand lightly grazed over the underwear you were wearing, causing you to gasp again as your dress lifted a bit higher, now showing off the skin of your stomach to the cloudy sky.

He finally detached his lips from yours, before reattaching them to your neck again.

The pleasure course through your body, causing your legs to spread a bit wider involuntarily.

"Eager are we?" He said, and you could feel his smirk against your lips.

"How can I not be?" I said smiling at the sky.

He chuckled, and I shivered as I felt his warm breath against my neck, mixed with the touch of his fingers against my clothed center.

"Wow, so wet and it hadn't even rained yet? " He said pulling away from your neck to see your face and address you with faux surprise.

"Oh shut u-" your statement turned into a moan as he applied pressure to your clothes through the fabric and started rubbing tight circles against your clit.

"Now now, that's not the proper way to talk to your Duke is it my lady?"

"You ba-" you were cut off as he applied more pressure and moved his fingers to rub down towards your entrance

"What was that?" He said with a smirk.

"Please just fuck me Leto" you moaned, trying to get him to lose his cool so you would win regardless.

And it definitely worked.

His smirk dropped and he carefully moved himself so he was over you.

"As you wish my lady" he said before kissing you softly and moving downwards, until he could kiss your stomach.

You fought to keep your hips down as he kissed your clothed center and licked it once through the fabric.

"Holy shit" you gasped out, as he hummed with appreciation.

"I can't wait to taste you, but first, I must do what I promised." he said glancing up at you through his long lashes, and moving lower to your thighs. The sun was now setting on Caladan, and the moon was beginning to show. The flame of the Lantern illuminated Let's dark hungry eyes, causing your stomach to turn.

You watched as he closed his eyes, starting to kiss the insides of your thighs with his hands gripping both of them at the same time.

Your body shivered as you felt his beard prickle against your soft, sensitive skin.

When he got to a spot he desired, he slowly licked the skin there before sucking it, causing you to moan as you felt the pressure of him creating a mark there.

"God I love the sounds you make" he said looking back up at you as he moved slightly upwards again, and hooked his hand in the waistband of your underwear.

Your body heated up at his praise and you eagerly lifted your hips to help him with the removal.

He placed your garment off to the side, next to you on the blanket.

"You're so beautiful" he groaned out as he stared hungrily at your glistening center.

"Leto please.." You whined, getting impatient.

He obeyed your words and placed his hands on your hips to steady them, before he licked a long, slow stripe with the tongue up to your clit.

"Fuck!" You moaned loudly and thew your head back onto the blanket, your chest starting to speed up.

Suddenly, you felt rain drops start to hit your Face, but Leto was not stopping.

"L-Leto, maybe we shoud con-continue this inside" you said, trying to form a coherent sentence before your eyes rolled back from how good his Skillful tongue was working you.

"No" he grunted, pulling away from you for a second.

"I cannot wait that long, I want your taste now." He groaned before going back to your soaked center.

He gave you a couple more licks, moaning at your taste causing heat to spread all over your body.

At this point, the rain was semi-heavy, Leto's curls were sticking to his forehead and you brushed the hair that was starting to stick to your Face as the rain wet it.

He stuck his tongue inside your entrance and you both simultaneously moaned.

His beard added a whole 'nother level of stimulation and you moaned incoherent sentences at Leto.

The river of pleasure coursing through your veins was about to break through and Leto sensed your impending climax as well everytime he stuck his tongue inside you, trying to get all of your taste.

He took his tongue out and focused on your clit, the pleasure overtaking you both as he pushed you forward all the way to your release.

You moaned loudly and Leto let out a choked moan as well.

Your eyes were squeezed tight, only feeling the immense pleasure, and the cool rain on your skin as your love pleasured you through your orgasm.

When you were finally too sensitive, you pushed his head away gently and he looked up at you with hooded eyes and his beard glistening in the light with your slick, and now, the rain.

He carefully moved upwards and kissed your lips.

You moaned as you tasted yourself on him.

"Not even the rain can wash away how good you taste, my gem." He said fondly.

You gazed at him with hooded eyes and s droopy as well, placing your hand on his cheek and watching him lean into your touch.

"Now let's get out of this rain my sweet Leto, I want to return the favor" you said mischievously.

He smiled and kissed you quickly before moving from on top of you and grabbing your underwear, sitting down next to you and the now completely soaked blanket.

"I already came" he said with a shrug.

"What!? Just from that?" You asked, surprised, as you looked at the man next to you.

The loose linen shirt he was wearing was now sticking to his body and see-through as the rain poured over him.

He pushed his hair back before answering,

"Bringing my lover pleasure like this brings me immense pleasure" he said simply.

Your heart almost burst at his words and you moved to grab your underwear but he held them out of your reach.

You looked at him In surprise before he smirked and spoke,

"I already came, but that doesn't mean I don't want to again." He said.

You slapped his arm and he laughed heartily before the both of you got up from the blanket and you folded it before tucking it under your arm while he grabbed the lantern.

His held his other hand out and your put yours in his, before walking closely together and giggling like school kids as you made your way back to your shared chambers, both of your clothes now sticking to your bodies.

In his head, Leto thought happily,

"This is the woman I'm going to marry."

#duke leto x reader #duke leto x you #duke leto atreides #oscar isaac #dune 2021 #dune fanfiction #light angst #fanfiction